


Love the lie you live

by PokehTurtle



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Gay, Modern AU, Slow Burn, bodyguard au (not the show lol), fake dating au, still faunus tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:44:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokehTurtle/pseuds/PokehTurtle
Summary: Things are going well for Blake. Ghira Belladonna, her father, and the leader of the White Fang, seems to be making progress in making the world a safer place for faunus; that is, until he's nearly killed in a failed assassination attempt. Desperate to keep their daughter safe, Blake's parents arrange for her to adopt a false identity and to move in with her new bodyguard until the criminals are found.She just wished she didn't have to pretend to be in love.





	1. Chapter 1

Blake had gotten used to the sound of her father’s voice amplified through dozens of speakers; a slightly tinny quality, with a lack of bass and depth. Still, even with such effects, Ghira Belladonna’s voice had the aura of a leader. It was booming, powerful, and yet gentle, like the voice of a father. A teacher. 

She stood next to her mother, Kali Belladonna, who was beaming with pride at her husband as he spoke on stage in one of Vale’s many auditoriums to an audience of faunus. The many listeners wore shirts with the White Fang’s logo on them and ears, tails, and horns were a common sight in the sea of people. Only a few humans littered the audience. Them even being allowed in had been a controversial decision by Ghira. 

“And so I say to you again today, we are not monsters, and we are not mistakes! We are people, and we will rise!” Ghira finished his speech to raucous applause, as he always did. Shouts and cheers filled the auditorium and made Blake feel like she was underwater temporarily. It was overwhelming. She could see the beads of sweat on her father's forehead as he held up his hands in thanks, waving to various faces in the crowd. 

“He did a great job again today, didn’t he?” Kali placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, a warm smile hanging on her lips. 

“I’ve never seen him mess up, not even once.” Blake laughed, still clapping for her father herself. 

“Well, before you were born and when you were little, your father would stand in front of the mirror for _hours_ getting every little detail right. He used to flub over his words all the time.” Kali laughed, reliving the fond memory. “You know, like you do now.” 

“That’s pretty hard to believe.” Blake snarked. “Besides, I’m not nearly as charismatic as dad.”

“You’re also different people honey. But you certainly inherited his sense of justice and _I_ happen to think you're a great speaker.”

Blake blushed, skin taking on a red hue and warmth flooding her cheeks. Her father was the leader of the White Fang, a faunus rights organization that promoted equality and an end to humanity’s enslavement and cruelty towards the faunus. Ghira espoused peaceful means; something that not all faunus agreed with unfortunately. 

Blake couldn’t help but sympathize with them. She’d been to plenty of protests that had ended with her tortured by tear gas, or being sprayed with high pressure water that left bruises. One of her friends, Ilia, had even been shot at with rubber bullets that broke bones and drew blood, and that was simply what Blake had personally experienced. She had heard horror stories of impossible cruelty that made her heart alight with rage and the burning desire for vengeance. 

But she trusted her father. Far more than she would ever trust the rhetoric of an abusive madman ever again. 

She exited through the staff tunnels with her mother in order to meet up with her father again. He was waiting for the two of them, wiping off the sweat of stress from his brow. 

“Kali, Blake.” He embraced his family in the hard concrete tunnels of the stadium. Despite the noise of the staff busily striking the stage and preparing the building for whatever performance was next, the Belladonnas felt as though the world was silent as they held each other. 

“Dear, you were wonderful as always.” Kali slapped Ghira on the back with surprising strength, making the giant man jump in place. Blake snickered. Her father was built like a tank, but was more like an elephant afraid of mice when it came to his wife. 

“Ah, I feel like I didn’t speak quite as well as last time-” 

“You’re too hard on yourself! People are responding to your message. The pressure that we’ve been able to put on the Schnees? It’s due to your leadership, dear.” 

Blake rolled her eyes as she watched her parents share a lovey-dovey moment. Twenty-three and she was still embarrassed by her parent’s PDAs. 

“Look, this was great, but I remember a promise about sushi being made?” Blake rubbed her temples as she watched her parents smile at her. 

“Oh, are we embarrassing you honey?” Kali chuckled wickedly. 

“Mom!”

“Yes, you’re right Blake. Fennec, are you and Corsac ready to go?” Ghira called out to his two closest assistants. The two fox faunus made for expert secretaries and Corsac doubled as the family driver. Blake had known them since she was a little girl, but she never particularly cared from them. They had gotten along quite well with Adam back in the day; back before she knew who he really was. That was more than enough to weaken any trust she had with them. 

She pushed the thoughts of Adam down into her subconscious as her family got into the car. It was a rather unassuming black SUV; a stark contrast to the pure white limos that the Schnees, one of the chief targets of White Fang protests, paraded around in. Corsac and Fennec sat in the front, while Blake and her family remained in the back, chatting about Ghira’s speech and more importantly, what they were going to order at Slate’s sushi bar, ‘Kasa’. It was rare exception of a ‘high brow’ establishment that catered to both a human and faunus clientele, which made sense, considering the chef Slate was a talented rhino faunus that Ghira had met personally in his travels. Apparently even racists were able to make exceptions when it came to good food. 

They arrived at the crowded restaurant around 8pm. Blake was well aware that she was actively salivating at the thought of the different kinds of sweet, fatty, delicious fish awaiting her at the thought. 

Ghira gave Corsac and Fennec a generous amount of money to use at their own discretion in the restaurant, leaving the Belladonnas alone to enjoy dinner together. It was busy and and full of happy, chattering patrons. The well trained servers moved like machines, handing out bowls of miso soup and expertly prepared plates of sushi decoratively adorned with pickled ginger and shredded daikon. Each plate was photo perfect. 

“I’m glad we’re still able to enjoy dinner like this.” Ghira said, sipping on a small cup of sencha tea. “I always worried that this life… all the traveling, all the protests, would be an undue burden on you Blake.” 

“Of course not dad.” Blake smiled from ear to ear, all four of them. “Even if I wasn’t your daughter, I’d be on the front lines protesting with you regardless.”

Her cat ears twitched gently on her head. 

“I told you she takes after you.” Kali chuckled, holding Ghira’s hand across the table. 

“Well, hopefully not too much.” 

Blake opened her mouth to respond but found that whatever she said was drowned out by the sound of shattering glass and the warm splattering of blood across the table and her face as her father was knocked out of his seat by some unknown force. 

Things slowed down from there. Her heart thundered in her ears and drowned out the screaming from her mother and the others around her. Her body moved on its own towards her father’s side and she slammed her hands hard against the bullet wound, trying to put pressure on the entry point. She held her hands in place despite all the blood that spurred past her hands while she heard her mother and father choking on their words until red and blue flashes of light flooded in through the windows and bathed everything in a strobe of jarring, unnatural color. The EMTs took her father away and told her and her mother everything was fine, everything would _be_ fine. It wasn’t fatal, they kept repeating, and repeating, though the words seemed to bounce off of Blake’s shell and fell flat against her mother’s wailing. 

They huddled near a different ambulance where they were double checked for injuries. Aside from a few glass related cuts, they were ok. Her mother sobbed into her shoulder and Blake couldn’t help but feel that the tears soaking into her shirt reminded her of the still warm splatters of blood on her face. 

“It’s okay.” She whispered, trying to convince herself and her mother that everything was fine. 

\-----

Hospitals were places where people either found hope or choked on it and died. For Blake, this time thankfully, it was the former. Her father was in stable condition; whoever had tried to shot him had missed their mark, piercing Ghira under ribs and through part of his liver. It would put him out of commission for a long while, but he would recover and survive. 

Blake had a few bandages on her arms, hiding wounds that came from the shattered glass. Her mother was resting next to her, long having since nodded off as they watched over Ghira. The mammoth of a man had gone through major surgery earlier and was still working off the anesthetic, or so the doctors had said. 

For a while she tried to read, but the book she’d grabbed sat unopened on a table next to her. She had to put her phone on silent due to all the messages she had received from friends and colleagues. It was all kind messages and condolences, but she grew more tired the more she responded to them. 

“Thank you for your thoughts.”

“We’re doing alright.”

“Dad will be fine.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“I don’t know, just cancel it.”

“How should I know?”

“Just go away.”

What she really wanted to hear about, was the investigation as to who the hell it was that tried to murder her father, so naturally, she hadn’t heard anything from the police. Go figure. She sighed and glanced over at her mother. Blake was thrilled that she was actually sleeping, even if it had been likely brought on by severe exhaustion. Neither woman had slept much over the past three days. 

She halfheartedly shoved an almond in her mouth, poor excuse for lunch that it was. Eating wasn’t really on her list of priorities. 

“... I hope you’ve been eating more than that.” Her dad’s voice was hoarse and weak, but it jolted Blake to attention regardless, her ears alert and angled straight up. 

“Dad!” Blake had to stop herself from throwing herself onto her father. 

“Blake, I’m so glad you’re alright.” Ghira gently stroked Blake’s hair as tears forced their way out of her eyes, dripping down her cheeks and onto her father’s white hospital gown. 

“We were so worried.” Her throat tightened as she cried. “I’ll wake mom up hold on-”

“Let her rest.” Her father grabbed her arm gently, holding a finger up to his mouth. He looked over at Kali, smiling warmly at the woman he loved as her chest gently rose and fell. “I think I’d be right to assume you two haven’t slept much recently.” 

“That’s accurate.” Blake smiled as she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. Her tired eyes, bloodshot eyes rebelled against the searing warmth of her tears. Ghira coughed loudly into his elbow, still visibly weak from the assassination attempt and subsequent surgery. Blake’s brows furrowed as she looked her father over. His normally sun kissed skin was pale, sweaty, and pallid. His golden eyes were distracted and unfocused, sockets bruised and tinged purple. 

“I think you should go back to sleep too, dad.” Blake squeezed his hand, making sure to avoid the IV slipped into his veins. 

“Trust me honey, I will. I have some things to take care of though.” He smiled. 

“You can’t be serious. Dad, you were _shot._ There’s guards outside the door even now.”

Ghira grew more somber. “I know. But the world doesn’t stop to let you rest, even in a situation like this.” 

Before Blake could stop him, he pressed one of his massive fingers against the ‘call nurse’ button. 

“Dad, please…” 

“I’m fine Blake. Exhausted, but fine. They’ll have to try harder than that to kill me.” Ghira laughed heartily. 

“Don’t joke about that!” Blake playfully punched him in the shoulder. Gently, of course. A nurse appeared in the doorway, startled to see Ghira awake. 

“Mr. Belladonna! You’re awake! I’ll go get the doctor.” The nurse turned to leave. 

“Can you also get Fennec and Corsac? They should be around here somewhere.” Blake tapped her father on the shoulder. 

“Dad, no one’s seen them since the night you got shot.” Blake turned her golden eyes towards the window. 

“... is that so?” Ghira’s expression was grim and heavy. “What about Grant and Selene?” 

“They’re here.” Blake nodded. “I’ll message them for you, even though I really think you need more rest.” 

Her father muttered something under his breath that Blake couldn’t make out, though she imagined it was related to his former secretaries. 

“Thank you Blake. Do you mind if I borrow your phone afterward? There’s someone I need to call.” 

“I suppose.” Blake sighed, handing over her phone after messaging the two White Fang members. 

“In the meantime,” Ghira slapped Blake on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go get some food for you and your mother? If all you’ve been eating is a stray almond here and there, then you’ve little right to complain about me. I’ll reimburse you for whatever you spend.”

“... fair enough.” Blake rose out of her seat to leave the room. “But I can pay for myself dad.”

“Haha, if you’re sure.” 

She gave him an awkward hug before leaving, waving goodbye to the two security officers standing watch at her father’s hospital room. 

\-----

She returned about an hour later with two bags of food for her family. Luckily for her, there were a few fast food choices all around the hospital, meaning she didn’t need to go too far to honor her father’s request. When she returned to the hotel room, several high ranking White Fang members were there, along with her mother, who sheepishly waved at her through the doorway. Strangely, Sienna Kahn, one of the most powerful members of the organization, was missing. 

“Blake, you’re back!” Her father smiled at her. 

“Yeah. What’s going on? Did the police find something or…” She sat down next to her mother, handing her one of the bags of food. 

“They haven’t found anything yet.” Selene answered, blowing away a lock of hair that had fallen awkwardly on one of her horns. “We’re not sure they will. The assassin covered their tracks very well.”

Grant chimed in. “But we’re getting more security for all of you.”

“Including you, Blake.” Kali smiled at her daughter. 

“What do you mean?” She knew where the conversation was headed, but still found herself shocked. 

“Bodyguards.” Ghira answered. “I contacted an old friend of mine and he has someone just in mind to protect you.” 

“Why just me though?” Blake scoffed. “You make it sound like we won’t be together.”

Ghira and Kali shared an awkward look, like children caught with their hands in a cookie jar. A curious look for the leaders of a major faunus rights organization. 

“Blake, we love you more than anything else, you know that right?” Kali held her daughter’s hands.

“What are you talking about?” 

“You’ll be going into... witness protection. Separate from your father and I in order to keep you safe.”

“What!? You can’t be serious!” Blake felt tears threatening to burst forth once again. “You’re gonna lock me up in some safe-house!?” 

“Blake please,-“

“No, I’m not leaving you two alone!” Her gold eyes reflected fire.

Grant and Selene looked extremely awkward, as did the other White Fang members in the room. They all looked relieved when Ghira said they could step out for a moment. 

“Blake, the threat of all _three_ of us being attacked again is very high, and neither of us would be able to live with ourselves if you were hurt.” Ghira spoke firmly. 

“Your mother and I will be under incredibly strict surveillance. This way, you’ll at least be able to live a… fairly normal day to day life.” 

“What’s normal about it?” Blake snapped. She hated that she was so angry at her parents; hated how _genuine_ they were being with her. Their intentions certainly stemmed from love, but it still hurt nonetheless. The last thing she wanted was to be separated from them. 

“You’ll be given a fake identity. You’ll live with your bodyguard posed as… well as…”

“As what, dad?”

Ghira coughed into his hands, a gesture clearly stemming from embarrassment. “Ahem, girlfriends.” 

Blake was silent for a moment. The statement refused to sink in. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s the best cover for her to watch over you.” Kali continued for her husband. “You won’t _actually_ be dating honey, it’s just a front, and it’s just for a few months.”

“A few **_months?_** ” 

“Blake, please.” Kali stood up and wrapped her into a massive hug, tighter than normal, perhaps making up for the fact that Ghira wasn’t able to leave bed yet. “I know it seems extreme, but after talking about it with everyone it seems like it’s what would keep you safest. We’ll keep in contact.”

“I- do I even have a choice?” Blake’s shoulders were pulled towards the ground. 

“Of course you do!” Kali squeezed her daughter tighter. “We wouldn’t force you to do anything but…” 

Ghira frowned. “This was no amateur attempt on my life Blake. Until we find the culprits responsible you aren’t safe. None of us are. Like your mother said, we won’t force you but…” 

Blake sighed, her whole body wracked with tension and anxiety, muscles knotted up and tight. She hugged her mom back, almost afraid that she’d crush the smaller woman with the force. 

“Who exactly is this bodyguard?” Blake gently pushed her mom away and sat back down, hoping to get more information on the person who might potentially be her ‘girlfriend’ for a few months. She had no problem with her being a woman, but she wanted to know more about her than ‘she’ll protect you.’” 

“Her name is Yang Xiao-Long. She’s the daughter of an old friend of mine. He’ll be helping to watch over your mother and myself.” 

“What kind of faunus is she?” Blake asked, curiosity peaked a bit. She knew her father was talking about Taiyang Xiao-Long; some martial arts expert he brought up every once in a while. 

“Um.”

“Well, she isn’t.”

“... are you serious?” 

“Blake, just because she’s human-”

“It’s not that, I just-” Blake felt like pulling her hair out. This situation was extremely complicated. “It’s just a lot.” 

“I know her father well.” Ghira began. “He wouldn’t have suggested her if he wasn’t absolutely confident in her ability to protect you.”

Blake rubbed her temples again, as though it would make this whole situation fix itself.  
“... you promise you’ll stay in contact?” 

“Of course honey.” Ghira replied. “Also, if it makes you more comfortable, I’m planning on having Ilia stay somewhere nearby.”

Ilia? Blake’s childhood friend?  
“Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s not set in stone yet. I was told your fake identity could be ready in a week however, if you decide to go through with this.”

Blake fidgeted with her fingers like an antsy toddler. “... if it’s just for a few months then I guess it’s okay. If it keeps us all safe.” 

Blake was smothered once again by a hug from her mother, who dragged her over to Ghira’s bed in order to awkwardly involve her father in the embrace. 

_Just a few months. Everything will be ok._

\-----

Blake stood in front of what would be her new home for the next few months after being dropped off by a taxi (secretly driven by a guard) in what had been the most circuitous drive of her life. It was a single apartment in downtown Vale, on the third floor of a six story building. It was unassuming, neither dilapidated nor luxurious; perfectly average in every way. The only thing she was bothered by was its proximity to the highway; hopefully the sound of racing cars wouldn’t keep her up at night, considering the threat of assassination did a good enough job of that already. 

Through the door she could hear someone singing along with a radio and the smell of bacon sizzling in a pan wafted out through the gaps. Her hand tightened on the small suitcase she had with her. She hadn’t been allowed to take too many thing with her; mostly just a few sets of clothes, some books, and a few mementos; small treasures to make the change less brutal. 

Like a statue, Blake stood at the door. She had a key, but the door might already be open. Should she knock, or just barge in? Her mind told her to stop psyching herself out. 

First she tried the knob. Locked. Probably a good sign, but she couldn’t help but feel paranoid that she had the wrong address. 

After swallowing her anxiety, she knocked, three times, in a simple, even pattern.

“One sec!” The voice from inside called out, muffled by the closed door. The radio was silenced. After a few moments (probably checking to make sure it was Blake), the door opened, revealing a flash of gold and a pair of lavender eyes. 

“Hey, come on in! I’m just making a little breakfast.”

Blake tried to take in the very flashy person that had just opened the door. She was _tall_ ; at least six feet. The tight yellow tank she was wearing made her muscles _and_ her breasts look massive. Her hair was a waterfall of long, golden curls that trailed all the way down to her legs and even went slightly lower than the very short black shorts she had on, and, just like her father said, she appeared to be a human with no faunus traits in sight.

This was not what Blake was expecting. 

Yang Xiao-Long, her new bodyguard, chuckled, and went back inside, waltzing over to a small stove where she was frying up some bacon and what looked like an omelet. It smelled amazing. 

Blake entered the apartment, ears twitching as the wheels of her suitcase clacked over the doorway. She was on edge and nervous. Yang being the… way that she was wasn’t helping. How could she be so energetic and casual? Weren’t body guards supposed to be stoic or something?

“So um, you’re Yang. Yang Xiao-Long?” Blake said, shocked at how quiet her voice was. She was hardly a social butterfly, but she usually spoke with a bit more confidence than that. Maybe it was Yang’s outfit. It certainly left little up to her imagination. 

And Blake had a very active imagination. 

“Yep, that’s me! And you’re Blake.” The woman responded in a chipper voice, sliding the omelet off onto a plate with a few strips of bacon. She turned around, setting the food down on a small table in the center of the room. Blake took a good look at the interior of the apartment; it was rather sparsely furnished. The kitchen and living room were combined and off to the side was a door that Blake assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. There was a couch and a TV, which Yang had apparently hooked a game console up to already. An intimidating black case with industrial metal brackets on it rested nearby the only window. Blake tried not to think about what was inside of it. She’d seen law enforcement and secret service carry around similar things; the contents were probably deadly. 

“I made enough for you too. I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten breakfast or not.” Yang politely gestured to the other chair at a small table near the stove and fridge. 

“Oh uh…” Blake looked down at her stomach, then over to the food, then over to Yang grinning from ear to ear, then down to her chest, and then after blushing profusely, sat down at the table. The blond had already set out silverware for her. 

“Thanks.” She gladly bit into the crisp bacon with a crunch, her stomach more than thankful for the savory contribution. 

“Hey, no problem. I’m used to cooking for my younger sister a lot.”

“Cool.” Blake got the feeling that Yang was trying to start a conversation, but she remained silent. She wasn’t a big fan of small talk and wasn’t looking forward to getting down to business. 

Well, at least there was bacon.

“I like your bow.” Yang finally blurted out after a moment of silence. 

“What bow- oh.” Blake’s eyes drifted upward, even though she couldn’t see her bow from where she was sitting. It was another safety precaution; after all, her new alter ego wasn’t a faunus. She wiggled her ears gently, causing the bow to wiggle in tandem, which, surprisingly, elicited a giggle out of Yang. 

“S-sorry, that was just really cute.” Yang sheepishly scratched the back of her neck, cheeks slightly flushed. “You don’t have to wear it in the apartment by the way if the windows are covered. Just when we go outside.”

 _Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s embarrassed._

“I’ll keep it on for now. I have to get used to it, right?” Blake sighed. She hated the idea of hiding part of what made her well, _her_. It must have showed on her face because Yang was looking at her with and expression of… pity, maybe? It was irritating. Someone like Yang, who was tall, beautiful, and human, would have no idea what Blake’s life as a faunus was like. 

They finished breakfast in an upsetting malaise. Yang clearly wanted to talk her ear off, but Blake was far too exhausted to even entertain that idea, responding to anything Yang said with grunts and noncommittal nods. 

“Do you uh, need help unpacking?” Yang asked as she brought the dishes over to the sink. 

“No, I don’t have very much.” Blake started to unzip her suitcase and looked over to find an expectant Yang staring at her. “Um, thanks though.” 

“No problem.”

The unpacking was packed with equal parts tedium and awkward silence. There was a surprisingly big closet in the bedroom, where Blake began to hang up some of her clothes next to what she assumed were Yang’s. She started using the queen sized bed in there as a way to lay out and organize her stuff when realization struck her. 

“Wait are we-” Blake began to stammer, suddenly flushed and bit sweaty when Yang came over.

“Huh? Oh! No don’t worry, the couch has a pull out bed. The big bed’s just for appearances, but it does mean you get plenty of leg room.”

Yang turned to leave before adding, “Unless you _want_ to share it.”

“I, wh-“

“I’m kidding!” Yang’s laugh was a firework going off; pretty, but too much for so early in the morning. 

Blake sighed relief and finished storing away her things over the next hour in complete silence while Yang attended to something in the living room, the door closed between them. She was thankful Yang had the tact to let her be for a while. When she was finally done it was all she could do to throw herself on the bed. 

She was so exhausted. So tired. So scared. Before she even knew what she was doing, she grabbed one of the purple pillows off the bed and started sobbing into it, trying to muffle the sound of her sorrow. She hated how her shoulders heaved and her body ached, how she was suddenly a scared child again, craving the safety of her parents bed and the embrace of a guardian. 

“Blake? Are you okay?” Yang’s voice came muted through the door. Blake was glad she didn’t just barge in like she’d expected her too. 

“I’m fine.” Blake Belladonna had never told a less believable lie in her life. She heard Yang slump against the outside of the door and imagined the blond with her back against the wood. Her bodyguard was close, on the other side of the portal, probably waiting, hoping that Blake would let her in. It wasn’t that easy though. 

“I’m here if you need anything, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thanks.” It took a few moments for Blake to respond, and it was more for the sake of saying anything at all that she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy! I been writing this fic on my own and most of it's done, so it should be updated fairly frequently. that fake dating life is real juicy and I couldn't help myself... 
> 
> speaking of not being able to help myself here's a shameless plug! i have a ko-fi now! excitement, fireworks, kaboomsplosion etc  
> http://ko-fi.com/pokehturtle


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of their first day together, they didn’t really talk. Blake remained in the bedroom alone, reading, thankful for the distraction, except for the few moments Yang came in to check on her; it was part of her job after all. 

Her bodyguard had politely told her good night, and to come get her if anything seemed amiss around 10pm. Blake gladly welcomed the reprieve, completely exhausted despite her lack of activity, though the thought of Yang coming into her room after she was already asleep kept her from getting rest quickly. Her parents told her she could trust her completely; that didn’t mean she did yet. Trust wasn’t something so easily given, even on the word of another. 

The night was restless. She tossed and turned, sat awake in the dark, pulled the covers over her head like it would transport her to somewhere different. When she finally woke up, she felt like she had barely slept. Judging by the noise, Yang was in the kitchen trying her best to be quiet, (only failing slightly) whipping something up for the two to eat. 

Her hair was a mess when she finally walked out of the bedroom, hands trying fruitlessly to keep her black strands from sticking up at odd angles. She looked and felt like she was hungover, despite the fact that she hadn’t had a drink in weeks. 

“‘Morning.” Yang turned to her briefly before skillfully flipping a pancake onto a plate. She seemed more withdrawn than the day before. The large black case by the window had shifted slightly and Blake could only gulp in response. It was a symbol, an immovable reminder of her precarious situation. 

“Morning.” Blake responded. Her voice was hoarse from crying and her throat was raw. 

Yang smiled at her with sympathy in her eyes before bringing two plates of pancakes over to their small dining table, where two steaming cups of coffee waited. 

“Wasn’t sure when you’d be up, but it looks like I timed it pretty well.” The blond’s smile and tone were more forced. Blake felt bad. Her bodyguard probably thought she hated her, judging by the way she’d acted, ignoring her for the whole day. 

“It’s sweet of you to cook for me.” Blake began as Yang sat down across from her. “... I can cook next. Don’t feel like you always have to.”

“Hey, it’s no big deal! I really like cooking.” Yang gleefully shoved some pancake into her mouth. Blake just talking to her seemed to cheer her up a bit. 

The pancakes were delicious; fluffy, lightly buttered, with just the right amount of syrup. The real stuff too. Blake couldn’t help but devour her whole plate. She was glad that Yang liked cooking because she clearly had the skill to back it up. The situation was bizarre and awful, but at least she’d be well fed. 

They sat in silence for a moment once done, before Yang spoke up first. 

“Well, we might as well get down to brass tacks. Let’s talk about our situation and your alias.”

Blake swallowed some coffee nervously, trying not to recoil at the bitter taste. “Right, um…”

Yang’s demeanor shifted. Her tone was serious, no nonsense, and Blake could have sworn her eyes looked more red, like a switch had flipped. 

“What’s your name?”

Blake felt her pulse quicken. 

“Amethyst. You’re Yin Zise, and we’ve been dating for a year.”

“And what’s your nickname?” 

“Ugh. Amy.”

“My sister came up with that one. How did we meet?” 

“In college, where we both met during a history class.” 

“What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“... your puns.”

Yang smiled at her, her eyes lightening up. “Hey, you’re pretty good at this. That makes our lives a bit easier.”

In any other situation Blake would have loved being complemented, but considering the situation was a matter of life and death? She kept any pride buried down where it belonged. 

The two were still in their pajamas when Yang rose to pick up their dishes. Blake mumbled a quick thank you in response. 

“Your friend Ilia is moving to an apartment complex nearby, but she won’t be here for a few days. In the meantime I thought…” Yang finished placing the dishes in the sink and turned to face Blake with a sheepish look on her face. 

“We just had some but there’s a really nice coffee shop nearby here. I figured you’d want to get out of the house after uh, being cooped up all day yesterday.”

Blake’s honest reaction would have been, ‘no, I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay in my room and make myself into a blanket cocoon and cry my eyes out.’ Yang probably had the right idea though; being cooped up inside all day wasn’t very healthy. Maybe some fresh air would do her good. 

“Sure, that sounds nice.”

Yang looked like a kid on Christmas. “Great! Take your time getting ready. Then I’ll go in and get changed when you’re done.”

Oh. Right. The bedroom was technically theirs, not just Blake’s. Half the closet contained Yang’s clothes and items. Suddenly she felt bad for basically keeping Yang out of there for the whole day. 

It was hot out so Blake opted for a sleeveless white blouse and some lightweight jeans. Tying her ears up in the bow was just as cumbersome a process as she’d remembered it, and her feline ears were irritated and protested against their new covering. She hated the way it made her look in the mirror and the thought of having to keep putting it on over the next few months made her want to smash every reflective surface in the apartment. 

Blake exited and let Yang into the bedroom and bathroom, trying not to make eye contact with her. She knew Yang had that same look of pity on her face from the day before and she wanted nothing to do with it. It made her sick and angry. For all she knew Yang was just putting on a face too; plenty of humans hated faunus. Maybe she found Blake disgusting, thought she was an animal, only bared living with her because she was getting paid to do so. 

Her thoughts were unwelcome and unjustified. Yang hadn’t brought up the fact she was a faunus even once. She was probably being too hard on her. 

Blake thought she had a pretty normal morning routine. She brushed her teeth and hair, got dressed, put makeup on if she felt like it, and was generally ready to go. It usually didn’t take her more than 30 minutes altogether. Yang, on the other hand, had literally been just _brushing_ her hair for 30 minutes. She was starting to wonder if they were ever going to actually leave or not. 

“How can you stand to brush all of that every morning?” Blake said with a bit more irritation than intended, watching Yang work the brush through her numerous curls. 

“Oh, I’m very particular about my hair.” Yang grinned, either ignoring or simply not noticing Blake’s aggressive tone. “Good looks like this don’t come easy Blake.”

Blake found herself observing Yang’s form carefully; she was good looking. Attractive. Really attractive. She was wearing a loose black tank top over her jeans with stylish tears in them and she just looked good. There was no other way to describe it. 

“I think you’d look good regardless.” Blake accidentally said, flushing when she realized what words had come out of her mouth. 

Yang turned to her with a shit eating grin that made Blake’s heart do an olympic grade backflip. “Flirting with your fake girlfriend Ms. Belladonna?” 

“Wh-what? No I just, I mean it’s true!” Blake continued to dig herself into a hole. Real deep. “I’m not saying you’re attractive, I mean you are, but not like in a- oh goddammit.”

Yang put her brush down and walked up to her, practiced, like a model on a runway. She leaned seductively against the wall as she captured Blake’s gaze. 

“Oh, so maybe you do want to share the bed?”

The feeling Blake experienced was similar to what would happen if her brain was a microwaved piece of aluminum. Yang couldn’t keep up her seductress act anymore and burst out laughing after a few desperate attempts not to. 

“Oh my god your face.” Blake thought her laughter sounded an awful lot like a symphony, despite her extreme embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry Blake I’m just giving you a hard time.” 

“W-well, don’t do it again!” Blake huffed, very aware of the blush on her face and very aware of how her tone hadn’t actually been threatening in any way. 

Eventually, Yang recovered from her laughing and walked back out into the living room. Blake followed and watched as Yang used a key to carefully unlock each latch on the black case before opening it up, revealing a small arsenal of weapons inside. 

It made Blake feel sick to her stomach; suddenly the crushing realization of her situation was staring her in the face. There was a shotgun, a long barrelled rifle of some sort (Blake didn’t know much about guns, that was more Adam’s wheelhouse) and a collection of pistols and ammunition. Yang selected one of them, carefully ran through the motions of making sure it was functional, and popped a magazine into it before switching the safety on and sliding it into a hidden holster on her front that Blake hadn’t even noticed. 

“I-is that really necessary?” She watched Yang reverse her actions and seal the weapons case. 

“Hopefully not.” 

Blake was worried she’d choke to death on the lump in her throat before any assassin had the chance to kill her. 

\-----

Blake didn’t like how crowded the coffee shop was. Despite the fact that she knew most everyone there was a perfectly normal person, her jagged nerves were doing a fantastic job of convincing her that there was a potential killer in every single seat. 

The line was long and Yang held her sweaty hand the entire time, doing a much better job of pretending to be her girlfriend than Blake was to her. Even Adam had scarcely ever been so affectionate with her in public. 

“Whatcha want babe? I was thinking just a cappuccino myself, but it looks like they’ve got a bunch of cool specialty mochas.” 

Yang beamed at her and Blake was certain that if anyone was watching them they would be wholly convinced that Yang was in love with her. She knew it was an act, but her heart still fluttered in her chest at the way Yang was looking at her. It’s been a long time since she’d seen that sort of look. Yang was just acting though. 

“I think I’ll probably just get some tea honestly.” Blake shrugged and kept her eyes trained on the shop’s menu. She’d already long ago decided what she wanted to get, a small cup of sencha, but it gave her a good excuse to not make direct eye contact with Yang. 

They got up to the register and Yang placed their order, paying with cash and telling the barista to write their false names on the cups. It was almost unsettling to watch; so far Blake hadn’t had to use her fake name yet. When their drinks were called, she didn’t even notice. Luckily for her Yang didn’t miss a single beat; Blake was almost convinced herself that they were Amethyst and Yin, college sweethearts, writer and programmer. 

“Shop’s crowded enough that no one will really be able to overhear us.” Yang pointed out, giving Blake the unspoken go ahead to stop pretending to be Amethyst for a bit. 

“How are you holding up, honestly?” 

If it weren’t for the bow Blake’s ears would have drooped straight down towards the earth. 

“I’ve certainly been better.” She finally admitted. It was an understatement. Every part of her was exhausted, spent completely. The bags under her eyes felt like multi-ton weights and her heart ached; she missed her parents and was bogged down with the worry she held for them and herself. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you slept very well last night either.” Yang sighed, giving Blake that same look of sympathy. “Every time I checked on you, you were in a different position.”

Ah, so Yang had been watching her. Go figure. There was probably a camera or something hidden in the bedroom. That thought make Blake very uncomfortable. 

“What, were you up all night too? You don’t look very tired.” 

“Let’s just say I’ve mastered the art of the power nap. I slept plenty, don’t you worry.” Yang rolled her cup back and forth in her hands. “It’s not my first rodeo.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Blake found herself wanting to know more about the person watching over her, even as she slept. “How long have you been doing this? You can’t be much older than I am.” 

“Yeah, I’m only a year older than you.” Meaning Yang was twenty-four to Blake’s twenty-three. “I’ve been security for three years. I was in the military before that. Joined as soon as I could.” 

“Seriously? You don’t really look like a soldier. Didn’t they make you cut your hair?” After Yang’s intensive morning hair routine, Blake was surprised to find out anyone else was even allowed to touch it. 

Yang looked like she was remembering the most traumatic event in her life at that comment. “They sure did. And I’ve spent every year since then growing it back.”

Yang glanced out the window, onto the street. Suddenly she seemed very far away.  
“I was a bit of a problem child for a while. Wanted to get away from home, bust some skulls; kinda like an extended protest against my dad. My sister was so upset. I remember her crying her eyes out when I enlisted.” 

Blake listened to every word and found herself mirroring the same look of sympathy Yang had given her earlier. 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Blake flinched, a memory trying to crawl up to the surface. “... we all did stupid things when we were younger. Myself included.” 

Yang smiled at her sweetly. “It’s ok. I don’t blame you for wanting to know more about the person you’re living with. Hopefully my dad and his partners figure out this whole situation quickly and you can get back to life as usual.”

Blake felt guilty. Yang was just doing her job and on more than one occasion she’d taken out her discomfort on her. 

“I’m uh,” Blake began, “sorry I’ve been kind of difficult so far.” 

“You? Difficult?” Yang snorted as she held back a laugh. “Oh god you should have seen the last person I worked for. She was a fucking nightmare that short little piece of-” 

Her guard’s tone was so ridiculous Blake found herself laughing out loud in front of her for the first time. Yang stopped talking and smiled at her, smiled at her the same way someone does staring at the stars; not that Blake noticed during her laughing fit.

“Well, I’m glad the bar is low.” Blake finally managed to stifle her laughter, taking in a nice deep breath. Her shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

\-----

They chatted about a few other things while there; Yang told her about her sister, Ruby (who loved escape rooms and built complicated electrical systems for fun), told her about the family dog (Blake didn’t mention that she hated dogs but the disgust was evident on her face), told her about some of the friends she’d made in the military (Pyrrha and Nora), told her how her new favorite game was the recently released Grimm Eclipse 2 (it was pretty good)...

Mostly, they talked about Yang. Blake hadn’t been eager to divulge information about herself and Yang didn’t blame her; she’d been a bodyguard for a long time and barring a few outliers, no one was really comfortable with the situation. No one wanted to have a bodyguard. It was always easier for her to cross the bridge first. 

Afterward they returned back to the apartment, where Yang somehow managed to convince Blake to play some video games with her before the faunus sequestered herself in the bedroom again, presumably reading a book, hopefully not crying. The only time they were with each other again was when Yang made dinner. 

“So uh,” Yang had been fidgeting with her food for a solid five minutes before she worked up the nerve to talk to Blake, who much to Yang’s own personal pleasure, seemed to really be enjoying the linguini carbonara she’d made. Blake seemed to enjoy her cooking in general, which did wonders to inflate her own ego. “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but, um.”

Blake gave her a funny look while she still had a noodle hanging out of her mouth. It was so damn cute the Yang thought she was actually going to scream. 

“What is it?” Blake responded once her mouth wasn’t full. 

Yang’s eyes darted up to Blake’s cat ears, a gesture she certainly noticed if her growing frown was any indication. 

“Wearing the bow… does it hurt? I mean if I had to wear like, earmuffs all day I think I’d go nuts.” 

“... um.”

“L-like I said,” Backpedaling, backpedaling, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Boy this pasta sure is alright isn’t it!” 

“Yang.” 

She sheepishly met Blake’s amber eyes. There was fear, sorrow. Concern, maybe. The faunus blushed and rubbed strands of hair between her fingers, fast enough that Yang thought she might start a fire, and glanced down at her remaining food.

“It doesn’t hurt exactly, but it is uncomfortable. It’s like- I dunno how to describe it to you. Like wearing a shoe size that’s too small? Tight, just, not right. I don’t like it at all.”

“I’m sorry.” Yang wasn’t quite sure what to say. She didn’t want to step in a pile of shit. Emotions played out on Blake’s face in a conflicting mess. “That sounds awful.” 

“... it’s fine.” Blake’s response was short, her expression defensive. “... I don’t really expect a human to understand anyways.”

Whoops. She stepped in it. 

“Thanks for dinner.” Just like that, Yang found herself alone at the table, watching Blake silently clean her plate and retreat back into the bedroom. 

The hours passed by uneventfully. Just like the night before, Yang pulled out the bed from the couch and threw on some pajamas, killed time watching dumb videos on her phone and reading comics (her new favorite was a short one about a magical girl brutally murdering catcallers; it was surprisingly good). Her 9mm never left her side.

Blake hadn’t come out from the bedroom since dinner and it was late enough that the exhausted faunus had probably fallen asleep. Her smartphone had a camera feed that she would check every two hours, just to make sure Blake was still safe, even though there was no way into the bedroom aside from the door; it didn’t have any windows, so any potential attacker would have to bypass Yang first. 

Still, a bit of redundancy didn’t hurt, especially when someone’s life was at stake. She glanced out the window and scanned the area with trained precision, looking for someone watching them, a vehicle parked too long on the street, surveillance equipment; anything that could be a threat. Satisfied that no one was looking, Yang pulled the heavy curtains she’d put in over the window; no one would be able to see anything through those, unless they had really specialized equipment. 

Ruby had tried to call her earlier; she’d have to get back to her in the morning. If they talked right now she’d almost certainly wake Blake up, which she really didn’t want to do. Her heart went out to the girl; her whole life had been thrown upside down and she’d literally watched her father almost die. Yang could somewhat relate, as one of her friends in the army, Pryha, had been shot once during a skirmish with Atlas. She’d barely made it out alive. 

A lot of the people she’d been assigned to hadn’t been in such dire straits. She’d been on the security teams for a few singers, some business meeting once, a short little multicolored menace, but Blake was the first person she was guarding one on one. 

She was also the first faunus. Most couldn’t afford private protection, but the Belladonna’s were different. Yang didn’t keep up with the news much anymore, but even she knew about the famous activist family. She’d even seen Blake herself a few times on T.V before at publicized rallies, though she made no mention of it to her personally, not wanting to drag up a potentially triggering memory of her father. It also helped that Ghira had taken personal self defense lessons with her father Tai; not that it did much to stop a high caliber rifle from afar. 

Yang groaned internally and plopped down onto the pullout bed and stared up at the white, plastered ceiling. The bed wasn’t super comfortable; the sheets were cheap, scratchy faux cotton and she could literally feel the springs squeaking underneath her. Her eyes trained on the closed door to Blake’s room. Shit didn’t normally bother her very much, but she wanted Blake to like her. She really did. They had to live with each other for a few months, potentially longer if the investigation went poorly. If Blake stayed mad at her… it simply wasn’t sustainable. Maybe she could get her some sort of gift, some sort of peace offering? There had to be something she could do. She didn’t want Blake to think she was a blond idiot, or worse, a racist bigot. 

Within half an hour Yang finally fell asleep, and within half an hour more she was awoken by a chilling shriek coming from the bedroom. Instinct took over; in just a few seconds Yang had her pistol out, safety off, and had burst into the bedroom, eyes red like lit coal and scanning the room with her gun pointed forward, ready to take down the source of Blake’s cry with deadly efficiency. 

Empty. There was nothing in the room save shadows and a very panicked young faunus. Blake was breathing heavily in the bed and her cheeks were glistening, evidence of the tears she’d shed. Yang had one last look around the room before she approached Blake, putting her gun away. 

“Hey, it’s ok.” She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to soothe her. It reminded her of when Ruby would wake up in the nights after their mother’s death, crying, near inconsolable. It felt natural sitting close to Blake, doing her best to comfort her. “I’m right here.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Blake buried her face in her hands, tying to hide her expression. Her breathing wasn’t very calm or consistent. Yang felt horrible. There was nothing for Blake to be embarrassed about. “It’s nothing. I-it was just a nightmare. I’m sorry.” 

Yang felt her heart being skewered. She looked so defenseless, so scared. Alone. She carefully put a hand on Blake’s back and stroked her gently. Blake felt tense at first, but her muscles gradually loosened against Yang’s touch. 

“There’s nothing to apologise for.” It was the truth. “It’s just your brain being difficult; they can be real annoying fucks sometimes huh?”

Blake removed her hands from her face with a sniff, lifting her head to face Yang. Her golden eyes were sore, scratchy, red. 

“I know it’s hard.” She kept her hand on her back, trying to ground her, bear some of her worry. “I’m not gonna let anything hurt you though. You’re safe with me.” 

At that word another round of sobs wracked Blake’s body and she found herself weeping openly into Yang’s shoulder. In return, Yang simply held her, kept her in her arms until she finally stopped crying. 

“Th-thanks.” Another sniffle or two came and went. Blake’s breathing gradually steadied and she pulled away from Yang. “Sorry to bother you.”

This isn’t right. Yang thought. Someone like her shouldn’t be so sad. 

“Anytime Blake, seriously. I’ll be right outside ok?” Yang got off the bed and squeezed Blake’s hands tightly before moving to leave. 

“A-actually,” Blake’s fingers gripped the bed sheets tightly, pulling fabric closer to her body. “Can you stay here? I um… I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Oh- of course!” Blake looked so small wrapped up in the covers, so vulnerable, her walls brought down. “Let me just get some sheets to cozy up the floor and-” 

Blake gave her a curious look, her brow furrowed in a v, like she was shocked Yang was even thinking of roughing it. “Don’t sleep on the floor, there’s plenty of space in the bed. You said it yourself.”

“Wait, so you really do want me to sleep with you?” Any quippy follow up Yang had was brutally silenced by Blake’s pillow slamming into her face. Beautiful, and a mean throwing arm. Blake really was the whole package. Not that she’d let anyone other than her sister know. Professionalism and all that. 

“You’re not sleeping with me!” Ah, there it was. That adorable, flushed, exasperated look. “I-it’s just sharing a bed! I just-“

Blake sighed and stared intently at the sheets, purple and made of cotton, a lot comfier than the pullout sheets Yang had been sleeping on. “I’d feel safer if you were in here with me.”

“I understand. I’ll uh, hop in then.” Yang very slowly and tentatively got into the bed next to Blake, though a good foot of distance separated the two of them. Blake still seemed a bit on edge, but it looked to be more from anxiety at this point than actual panic. 

Yang rolled over on her side so that her back was to Blake. The faunus did much the same. 

“Thank you.” Blake’s voice was barely a whisper. Yang could feel her warmth from her body, despite the space between them. 

“Night Blake.” Yang replied, just as quietly. The two of them would be perfectly safe. Her gun was just on the nightstand nearest her. Nothing bad was gonna happen to Blake as long as she was around. 

“Night Yang.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa so many nice comments and kudos thank u y’all here chapter  
> The comic Yang’s reading is this gem https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29618810-magical-beatdown


	3. Chapter 3

Yang wasn’t in her bed when she woke up, but her spot was still warm. Blake’s blood started rushing, a river in a storm, and she leapt out of bed, slamming the door the the other room open. 

“Yang?!” The name slipped easily from her throat, panicked, before she suddenly felt like an idiot. Yang was standing in front of the stove as she had every morning so far, this time in a silly checkered apron with frilly lace making french toast. 

“Blake, is something wrong?” Yang’s voice was as serious as her expression and her hand was creeping towards something hidden behind her back. 

Blake wanted to respond with ‘nothing’s wrong, sorry’, but she couldn’t stop the laugh that exploded violently out of her mouth at the sight of a very serious, very ready to murder someone Yang, in a frilly apron that had a cooked turkey in a police cap on it that read ‘you’re under a roast’. 

Yang snickered and joined in the laughter too, quickly realizing that there wasn’t any real threat. 

“I-Im sorry just your _fucking,_ apron.” Blake wheezed and struggled to take a deep breath, laughing far too hard. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen in my _life_.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to love my puns!” Yang snickered as she turned the stove off with a click. Blake only then noticed the 9mm sticking out of the back of Yang’s pants. Her laughter stifled itself quickly. Yang noticed right away, turning sullen and apologetic. 

“... sorry.” 

“What are you apologising for? You’re just… doing your job.” Blake acquiesced, sitting down quietly at the table where Yang had once again set out two cups of steaming, strong smelling coffee for the two of them. 

“Well uh, hopefully the french toast makes up for it!” Yang de-aproned and plopped down at the table with two plates stacked high with french toast dressed with syrup (the real stuff), powdered sugar, and a few diced strawberries, all immaculately laid out. 

“It’s my sister’s favorite. I made it a lot when we still lived together.” Yang looked like she was recalling a fond memory as she explained. 

“Ruby, right?” Blake didn’t need any prompting to start eating her breakfast. It was awesome, as always. If Yang decided to stop being a bodyguard she’d have no problem becoming a personal chef. 

“Yep.” Yang seemed pleased that Blake had remembered. “Lil’ goblin had quite the sweet tooth. She tells me she’s eating a little bit better now, but I know better than to trust her on that.” 

Blake washed some of her food down with her coffee. It was bitter for her, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Yang that she preferred tea after all the work she’d been putting into making them nice meals. She watched Yang dig into her food and mumble something about needing to call Ruby back again later. 

There was something very discordant about her bodyguard; it seemed she could jump from goofball with great cooking skills, to a cold hearted killer with burning eyes in a second. Even after their long chat at the coffee shop the other day, Blake wasn’t sure how much she actually knew about Yang. She only knew surface level things; facts. A resume. 

She didn’t like that; didn’t like knowing exactly where she stood. 

“Sorry about yesterday.” Blake was somber, but felt an apology was a good place to start. Yang quirked an eyebrow, powdered sugar dusting her chin like snowfall. 

“About what?” 

“Well I wasn’t very kind to you last night.” About my ears, remained unspoken. 

“Oh.” Yang looked guilt-ridden. 

“Y-you were just curious.” Blake justified. “I know you didn’t mean anything… cruel by it.”

She’d hoped that assurance would cheer Yang up, but her bodyguard looked even more depressed. 

“Really Yang, it’s ok.” Blake did her best to smile sweetly at Yang. 

“But it’s not really, is it?” Yang huffed and set her silverware down with a clatter. “I’m human; I can’t even begin to understand the sort of shit people have put you through Blake.”

Blake avoided eye contact and cradled her hands around her warm cup of coffee.  
“... that’s true. I’ve seen firsthand how cruel humans can be. It’s why my father’s work is so important. Maybe one day things will be better.” 

She gingerly touched her neck, graced over the side with a feather like touch.  
“But that doesn’t mean Faunus aren’t just as capable of cruelty, and that doesn’t mean that there aren’t humans who support our cause.”

Blake could feel Yang’s eyes on her the whole time, could feel that she was listening intently. She hoped that Yang wouldn’t ask, ‘what kind of faunus are you talking about’, or pry about her strange outburst the night before. 

Yang didn’t mention either of those things, luckily. “Still, I’d like you to promise me that if I do anything, seriously _anything_ that’s out of line Blake, you call me out on it.” 

“Oh.” It wasn’t really the response she was expecting. “Um, sure?”

“I mean it!” Yang flashed her bright, stupid, sincere smile that made Blake’s stomach flip just a little too much, her curly golden hair hanging in the exact right spots to make her face glow in the morning rays. “Put me in my place.”

“Put you in your place, huh?” Blake’s voice came out far more flirtatious than initially anticipated. Whoops. It wasn’t her fault Yang was good looking; sometimes your mouth just said shit on its own. 

She expected Yang to have a quippy come back, but the other woman just stared at her a bit dumbfounded, cheeks the slightest bit red. Before finally responding with that suave smoothness from before. 

“... are you flirting with your bodyguard _again_ , Ms. Belladonna?” 

_“Ms. Belladonna_ , is going to keep eating her delicious french toast.”

The two had dumb grins on their faces as they continued to jokingly spar. 

“Delicious you say?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Ms. Xiao Long.”

“Too late.”

“I bet I could get you fired, if I tried.” 

\-----

Blake had something to look forward too for what felt like the first time in a long while. Ilia was finally situated in her new apartment and would be meeting Yang and Blake at some restaurant for dinner. She wished it could be just the two of them, so that she could fully air out her heart to her close friend, but Yang being there would probably make things awkward, despite the fact that her bodyguard was objectively a people person. 

Yang said it was a pretty nice place (‘not black tie or anything, but it’s fun to dress up!’), so Blake had opted to wear an old black cocktail dress she’d packed with her (in retrospect, she wasn’t sure _why_ she’d packed it, foresight maybe). 

She waited by the door while Yang put their names in (‘I thought there might be a wait’, she’d said), including the alias Ilia would be going by; ‘Avana’. 

Yang insisted she didn’t know the hostess, but the two were chatting and gabbing in a way that would have fooled anyone else. Blake thought maybe they were flirting for a second; Yang was properly dressed up, tie and slacks matched with a classy pair of oxfords and a nice button down, sleeves rolled up and showing some of her muscular arms. It was an outfit made to make heads turn, though Blake was the only one who knew about the pistol she had concealed. She couldn’t blame the poor hostess for looking flushed, for giggling embarrassingly, for gently touching Yang’s arm-

“Oh um, I’m actually here with my girlfriend tonight.” Just like that, Yang shut her down, pointing with her thumb at Blake, who was still shyly standing by the door. 

“Oh! I-I didn’t mean anything by it ‘miss.” The hostess attempted some impressive backpedaling. 

Blake felt almost lucky standing there, watching the poor service worker try to defend herself, watching Yang insisting that it was fine, an honest mistake, even as her ears were trapped by a purple ribbon. It felt good pretending someone like Yang was her girlfriend, even if it was all an act. 

“Hey,” Yang said sheepishly, walking up next to her, the debacle with the hostess apparently solved. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine.” Blake laughed. Yang was just doing her job and she hated the fact that part of her felt it wasn’t fine. “I don’t blame her; you look good. Real sharp.” 

“Dress for the best.” Yang winked, gently taking Blake’s hand into her own. She leaned over towards her cheek, close enough that Blake could feel her warmth and the perfume (lavender maybe?) Yang had put on earlier apparently. 

“If it’s ever too much, you can tell me to stop ok? We can play it off as a lovers quarrel or something.” Yang whispered, her words sincere. 

Honestly, Blake wasn’t really sure how to react to all the… acting. Her last relationship, if she could even call it that, had ended so catastrophically she barely remembered what it was like to have such blatant, sweet little PDAs. 

Adam had never been so careful with her in the way Yang was; his touches had been backed by force, taking her hand and her hips, her neck, in a vice like grip. Yang never held her hands that way; it was always loose enough that she could easily pull away if needed, more like the touch of a feather. She was provided something she didn’t have with Adam; a back door, a way out, a tacit reminder that Yang was there to protect her. 

Besides, it was all just an act. 

The front door near them opened, letting in a gentle wave of cold night air and revealing Ilia, perfectly blending in with the human crowd, dressed in an outfit similar to Blake’s, but patterned in a cute french style. 

“Hi Yin, Amethyst.” Blake’s friend offered her hand to the ‘couple’ with a knowing wink. 

_I’m never going to get used to these names_. Blake idly thought as she watched Yang shake Ilia’s hand, greeting her with her fake identity as well. 

“It’s really nice to see you.” Blake smiled, sincere as the morning was bright. 

“It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” Ilia responded. She’d done something different with her hair; it was down, instead of the customary ponytail she usually wore it in. It suited her well.

“It really has.” Blake couldn’t stop herself from giving Ilia a hug, which the chameleon faunus gladly returned. Yang watched the two, smiling contentedly to herself. 

They feigned some small talk while they waited for a table to open. Yang had explained to Blake earlier the gist of Ilia’s alias; they’d _also_ met in college, during a photography course, and were good friends. They hadn’t seen each other because ‘Avana’ had been traveling for her work (in reality traveling to protests), but she’d recently moved back to Vale temporarily for some time off. 

Yang had also told her that they needed to play their personas a bit better tonight than in the coffee shop; it was crowded at the restaurant, sure, but there was a higher chance of them being overheard. It meant Blake had to answer and ask questions in an almost purely allegrical way. 

When she asked, ‘How did your job in Vacuo go?’, what she really meant was, ‘Was the response to the protest as bad as it was on TV?’. Ilia seemed to get along just fine, finding the hidden meaning behind Blake’s questions with relative ease. ‘I got pretty sick in Vacuo, had to take some time off’, meant, ‘It got violent, and I was injured in the protest.’ 

Eventually the formerly flustered hostess came and informed them their table was ready. It was a nice, small booth, sandwiched between two similar booths and close to the bar. Blake wondered if Yang had requested a table far away from the windows on purpose, or if they’d just gotten lucky; regardless, she felt a lot more comfortable sitting somewhere where she knew she wouldn’t be easily sniped. The mirage of her father bleeding, barely alive haunted her dreams. 

“Have you been here before?” Ilia asked Yang as they sat down, Blake and her ‘date’ next to each other, Ilia directly across. The table was made of varnished wood and the lighting was dim, dim in the way rich people liked to eat in Blake supposed. The restaurant itself had a chic industrial vibe; it was probably pretty new. 

Yang smiled and smoothly slid her arm around Blake’s shoulders. It made her heart beat just that much faster, and she could have sworn that Ilia’s shifting eyes had turned red briefly. The dim lighting made it hard to say for sure. 

“I haven’t been here before myself,” Yang, or ‘Yin’, started explaining, “but my sister and this girl she’s been seeing really recommended it. It’s a bit fancier than I’m used to, but hey, why not splurge every once in a while?”

Blake honestly couldn’t tell if Yang was referring to her real sister or some fake sibling that ‘Yin’ had. The part of her brain that was unsettled by Yang kept firing off synapses; she shouldn't be so good at acting, should she? If this was all fake could she trust anything she said? 

“Well, as long as there’s seafood, _Amy_ will be perfectly content.” Ilia smirked as she used Blake’s fake nickname, ordering a glass of rose that was on the cheap side from their waiter. 

“I do eat other things you know.” Blake rolled her eyes, knowing full well that Ilia was teasing her for her childhood pickiness. She ordered a riesling, also on the cheap side. 

Yang finished ordering their drinks by tacking on a beer for herself, commenting to the waiter that ‘she was just schluppy enough to do so’ before turning her focus back to Blake and Ilia. 

“Oh, so you’ve been lying about how much you like my cooking babe?” Yang teased with a toothy smile. 

“Oh yes,” Blake replied, not backing down. Yang was easy to talk to, the back and forth comfortable and relaxed. “Do tell me why you haven’t been putting shellfish on our french toast.” 

Ilia responded with a gagging sound, and even Yang made a face seething with disgust. Blake giggled with wicked satisfaction at their reactions. 

“I bet I could make it work. Somehow.” Yang finally responded with a challenging grunt. Blake finally heard Ilia laugh for the first time that night in response. She was glad she was having fun. 

“I assume this is going well then?” Ilia asked, gesturing between the two of them with her finger. 

Blake wasn’t totally sure how to respond. Yang was more fun and a lot more kind than she’d been expecting, but her overall mental health still wasn’t great, or maybe it was, considering the circumstances. The fact that she was even able to crack a few jokes here and there after the trauma she’d experienced was probably a… somewhat good sign. 

“It’s been good. Even her stupid puns.” Blake finally responded, looking over at Yang who for the briefest moment seemed surprised, before quickly sliding back into being Blake’s ‘girlfriend’. Yang’s arm on her shoulder felt less heavy, a bit more natural. 

“Wouldn’t change it for the world.” Yang nodded. Their waiter brought their drinks over, stopping Blake from making any sort of response. 

“Puns huh?” Ilia sneaked a glance at Blake who just rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll need to hear some.” 

\-----

Ilia really wanted to hate the fact that she had had fun with Yang and Blake that night, that the food and drink was good, that she’d even laughed at a few of Yang’s dumb jokes, the bow around Blake’s ears, hiding who she really was.

She especially wanted to hate how Blake smiled at Yang throughout the evening, how she’d unconsciously thumb the end of her fine black hair in the same way she used to do around Adam before everything went south at mach five. 

She really, really wanted to hate the fact that Blake never looked at her that way. But that was in the past. She probably wouldn’t ever be able to hate truly hate Blake, but she still had a job to do. 

Ilia was wrestling with the apartment keys in her pocket when Adam called her. 

_‘It’s really her, isn’t it? Not some body double?’_ His voice was precise, and each question hit her like a hammer on hot iron. 

“Yeah. It’s her.” Ilia responded. She felt the gallows closing in around her throat. Half of her screamed that this was wrong, that she needed to stop right now, tell Yang and Blake to get out of Vale and book it on the next plane to Atlas. But she was doing this for the White Fang; for _all_ faunus. Blake was one person, and one person wasn’t worth the lives, safety, and dignity of millions more. Her family needed to be unseated as the leaders of the movement. 

_‘Good. I’ll be in Vale as soon as I can. What about her bodyguard?’_

“She’s good. It took me a long time to see that she’d been armed the whole night, and she never left Blake’s side.” She turned the key in the lock with a shaky grip, barely getting the door open. “It’ll be tough to seperate them.” 

_‘Well, we’ll have to change that won’t we? Yang, was it?’_ Ilia could literally _feel_ Adam leering, his hands clenched into fists over the phone. 

“What about her parents? Has Sienna found them yet?” She felt herself being torn apart by heavy chains, wanting to so much to know and wanting so much to be left in the dark. 

_‘It’s being taken care of. Your focus is watching Blake until I can get there. Don’t do anything stupid.’_ Adam hung up before she could even respond. 

She shut the door behind her and walked over to her kitchen cabinet, poured herself some sambuca and collapsed onto her couch. She thought she wanted to cry, but tears never came and she sat in silence until she simply drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy dowdy next chapte is done but won’t be uploaded till next week cause my sister is getting married!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heLLO thank you for all the lovely wedding wishes! my sister is now happily married and the ceremony was lovely.  
> thank you for your patience! this chapter isn't super long but i hope you enjoy it regardless ALSO i know im super bad about responding to comments but they honsetly are always a super nice thing to see and i appreciate each one

Blake had, for the briefest of moments, considered offering to let Yang rest in the same bed as her after they got back from having dinner with Ilia; she slept alone that night though, remaining on the same side of the bed as always, wishing that it had been a little warmer somehow. 

Luckily she slept better that night; maybe because she’d seen her friend, learned she was close by. Maybe because it had truly dawned on her that Yang was in the next room armed to the teeth if anyone tried to break it. Maybe it was because she so fucking tired her mind just gave up on the nightmares for a moment. 

There wasn’t any event the next day. It was just another Sunday, devoid of plans and expeditions. Yang made breakfast again, as it seemed she always would, and the meal passed by without either of them bringing up a touchy subject. 

The weather was supposed to be stormy that day; they probably wouldn’t be going out anywhere, especially since it was the lazy weekend. Blake was glad she’d brought plenty of books with her. 

Things seemed more relaxed. Looser. Blake started to feel less like she was living with a bodyguard and more like she was living with a roommate. In the afternoon she heard Yang playing some video game in the living room and left the solitude of the bedroom. Her bodyguard was sitting on the floor in front of the TV with a bag of chips (ultra spicy jalapeño flavor), resembling a teenager staying up late past their curfew mashing away at a game. 

“Something wrong?” Yang asked, immediately pausing her game, concern evident. 

“I just thought I’d read out here.” Blake shrugged, cuddling up onto the couch with a pillow she’d taken off the bed, leaning on it for support. 

The corners of Yang’s mouth lifted and she unpaused, turning back to her game. Rain fell against the window, patterned, and the dull grey light of a cloudy sky illuminated the interior in a cold glow. It was gloomy in the way that made staying indoors a pleasurable experience. Blake half paid attention to her book and half to Yang’s game. Every once in a while Yang would mumble something cheeky, ‘oh that’s just cheap’, or ‘goddamn kill stealer’, that would make Blake smile just the slightest. She figured this had to be part of who Yang really was; not apart of the act, not apart of the job. 

At one point, Blake shivered a bit, an audible chill, the kind where the spine feels injected with cold water and it can’t help but make you shake. Yang noticed. After another minute of her game she got up and entered the bedroom without warning, ruffling around for something, something tucked into her drawers. 

Blake felt confused until Yang returned with a fluffy black and yellow fleece blanket, tossing it on Blake without warning and a shit eating grin. 

“There ya go!” She said proudly, before returning to her nerdy exploits. 

Blake cuddled up into the warm blanket, noticed that it smelled like vanilla and lavender, and went back to reading with a smile that refused to leave her face. She wasn’t sure what to say, if she should even say anything. The gentle thrum of rainfall and the silence between them felt weirdly comforting. Safe even.

“Is it ok if I close the curtains?” Yang asked at some point. “Sun’s starting to set. I’ll turn the lights on.” 

“Oh, sure.” Blake responded, thumb pressed behind the page she was about to turn. She watched as Yang scanned the area with a trained eye, leaned slightly to the left, the right, before actually closing the curtains. 

“What was that all about?” Blake found herself asking, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer. 

“Well, I like to check every night for anything suspicious, out of the ordinary. My dad always taught me that it doesn’t hurt to be redundant.” Yang explained, before grabbing her punny apron out of a kitchen cabinet. 

“Why weren’t you wearing that the first time we met?” Blake asked, putting her book down as she eyed Yang thoughtfully, amused. 

“You know,” Yang began, skillfully flipping a spatula in her hand as she looked over at Blake. “I was considering opening the door that way, but then I was like, blah blah professionalism, blah blah first impressions. I figured I’d wait at least a _little_ bit before busting it out.”

Blake almost offhandedly made a comment about how ‘that wasn’t the only thing busting out’ before mentally strangling that thought and shoving it down back into the depths were it belonged. 

“You want anything in particular for dinner, Blake?” Yang asked cheerfully, rummaging about the cabinets, taking stock of what they had. Blake hadn’t taken a look at them before, and was surprised to see how well stocked they were. It looked like they easily had more than enough food for a few weeks if they needed to stay inside. 

“I’ve got some frozen pork chops here; not as good as the fresh stuff but as you know,” Yang turned around and winked in a way that was _shockingly_ seductive, considering the stupid apron she had on. “I can make anything taste good.” 

“Even french toast with shellfish.” Blake replied, more dull than a salt flat.

Yang threw her head back in faux grief, clutching her heart. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

Blake laughed wickedly, enjoying the back and forth. “I should sneak out, steal your money, stuff the freezer with frozen clams.” 

Yang walked over to her, eyes narrowed to a razor sharp point, and leaned over Blake, who was still comfy on the couch.  
“You _wouldn’t_.” 

Blake matched her gaze with a combative grin.  
“Delicious, delicious scallops, all over this apartment.” 

Yang couldn’t take it anymore and started giggling, like someone was tickling her.  
“Blake Belladonna, you are a _lot_ more evil than I took you for.” 

“I contain multitudes.” Blake chuckled, suddenly feeling more interested in talking with Yang than reading her book. It was a standard action/romance anyways. She’d read it before. 

“Learn something new everyday.” Yang turned back to the kitchen and pulled the frozen pork chops out, holding one in each hand with a gleeful expression. “Still, pork chops ok?”

“It sounds really good, Yang.” Blake got up from the couch and walked up next to her, leaning on the counter as she watched Yang get some spices out of the cupboards. 

“Can I uh, help you with anything?” Blake asked, feeling regretful that she’d never offered before. She felt like a guest that helped themselves to everything without lending a hand. 

“Oh, sure!” Yang turned to face her and her expression softened, gentle lilac eyes trained on Blake. 

“W-what?” Blake asked, thumbing some of her hair in her hand. Sometimes the way Yang looked at her made her heart dance. She hadn’t been looked at in that way in a long time. 

Yang turned back to the counter without comment, pulling some cutlery out of the drawers. “Do you know how to make mashed potatoes? I was gonna serve those with some sautéed green beans for sides.” 

“Sure.” Blake nodded, pretending that she knew how to make mashed potatoes. After all it was just potatoes and butter, right? It couldn’t be that hard.

“I’ll let you handle it then!” Yang handed her some red potatoes. “I’m gonna start working on a sauce to put on the chops while they thaw. Gotta have sauce right? There’s another cutting board in that drawer over there and the knives are next to it if you need them. I think there’s a peeler too if you’re not a big fan of the skins.” 

Blake didn’t really have a lot of experience cooking. Her father and mother traded off when she was young, and Adam had been rather dictatorial about what the two of them ate. But she could prepare some potatoes. 

“I know you said you cooked a lot for your sister,” Blake began, rummaging around for a pot to boil the potatoes in. “but did you just start as a hobby or like, were your parents gone a lot?”

Yang was focused on what she was doing, humming as she prepared some sort of gravy. It already smelled delicious, whatever it was.  
“It was usually just me and Ruby.” 

Yang’s answer was fairly vague, which disappointed Blake a bit. She was hoping to learn a bit more about who Yang really was. Blake wasn’t really sure how to pry for more information; she was bad enough at small talk as it was. 

It took a moment, but Yang seemed to catch onto her tacet curiosity.  
“My uh, parents were both police officers; dad was an officer and mom was a detective actually. It was pretty cool. I’d brag about it to the other kids in school.”

Blake nodded, listening intently. No wonder Yang had to learn how to cook; police officers often had bizzare schedules. She just hoped Yang’s parents hadn’t been the type to stop faunus for no reason. Probably not, judging by the fact that Ghira had taken lessons from Taiyang, but the thought nagged her all the same. 

“It was really good though y’know?” Yang tapped the wooden spoon she was using with a flourish on the pot, giving Blake a mischievous smirk. “Wood-n’t change it for the world.” 

“Why.” Blake groaned, which seemed to be the exact response Yang was hoping to get, judging by her mile wide smile. 

“I’m jealous you have a sister, honestly.” Blake blew past the pun without further comment. “I’m an only child. I wished I had an older sister a lot when I was younger.” 

Yang chortled. “There’s upsides and downsides. Ruby can be a little _creature_ when she wants to be, but I’d do anything for her.” 

“That’s really admirable.” Blake placed the potatoes in a pot of boiling water, secretly wishing they were having this conversation in a different setting. 

“I uh,” Abruptly, Yang sat down her tools and grasped onto the counter. Blake glanced over, concerned. “our mom died when we were pretty little. Taking care of Ruby was… well it was my job a lot.” 

Blake suddenly felt terrible for starting the conversation in the first place.  
“Oh my god, Yang, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you...” 

She reached out, almost putting her hand on Yang’s back before pulling it back. She wasn’t sure why she stopped; part of her wish she hadn’t. It was like opposite magnets repelling, an invisible force stopping her, even as close as she’d gotten. 

Yang didn’t seem to have realized. “It’s ok. I’m ok, really. It’s been a long time.” 

She took a deep breath and got back to cooking, but not before giving Blake that same sweet, gentle look from before. “I appreciate it though. You saying that. You’re a kind person, Blake.”

Yang started humming to herself again as she got back to cooking. Blake’s brain finally clicked that it was the same song she’d heard Yang singing along to when they first met. 

\-----

“Blake, you understand that I was hired to protect you, right?”

“Mhm. Yep.”

“And that it would be a violation of my dignity and my contract if I let something happen to you, right?”

“Yes, go on.”

“Ms. Belladonna, if I let you eat these mashed potatoes, I would not only be breaking various anti-torture treaties, but I’m pretty sure your parents will personally murder me.” 

“No, you’re absolutely right.” 

Blake had Yang had just tried what was without a doubt, the worst mashed potatoes either of them had either had in their lives. Yang had attempted to eat a spoonful, making it about three chews in before she politely excused herself to the bathroom. Blake tried some while she was gone (they couldn’t have been that bad) and discovered that they were in fact, that bad. 

The only reason she’d gotten as far as they did was because the delicious sauce Yang had made for the pork chops had obscured the ‘off’ smell. 

“Blake, I promise you this,” Yang began, eyes as serious and sharp as swords, “I am going to teach you how to cook like my life depends on it.”

“Well, it might if you somehow get food poisoning later.” Blake ruefully scooped the potatoes out into their garbage. They’d probably wanna take that out first thing in the morning. 

“If you think you’re up to the task Ms. Xiao-Long, then I welcome your sagely advice.”

“Excellent.” Yang began, tapping her fingers together like a super villain. “We’ll start with boiling water…”

“I’m not that bad!” Blake giggled as she sat back down at their dinky little kitchen table. Their apartment, though sparsely furnished and not quite lived in yet, was starting to feel more like home. 

“I dunno. Those were pretty bad. I must have missed it when you put raw sliced onions into the finished product.” Yang pointed at her with her fork. 

“Yeah. You were in the bathroom.” Blake shrugged, eating the actually edible part of their dinner. “Aren’t onions supposed to make stuff taste better?”

Yang gagged violently. “My sweet summer child, we have a lot of work to do.”

A moment passed and silence was exchanged before Yang opened her mouth to speak. 

“You seem a bit more comfortable.” Blake stopped eating and watched her. Yang was leaning against her fist propped up on the table, staring at Blake with one of those looks that made her mind spin. “Living here and everything I mean.”

Blake responded quickly. “I am, actually. I mean it’s still weird of course, but the good cooking helps.”

Yang smiled at her, and glanced over aimlessly at the window, hands weaved together, like she was trying to stop herself from fidgeting. It worked. 

“Thanks for listening to me earlier by the way. About my mom and stuff. I didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Blake frowned. It was something she’d do for any of her friends. But since when had Yang become her friend? All she’d done was a kind thing. No more, no less.

Yang gave her one of the softest smiles she’d ever seen. Her heart stopped beating for a second. 

“Anyways, I should be getting an update about your parents soon. I think they’re doing well.”

“I hope so.” Blake started playing with her food, flipping chunks of pork over and pushing them into her green beans. “Not being able to talk to them has been really hard.”

She felt terrible the second she said it, having just heard about Yang’s difficult childhood without her mother. Yang didn’t seem bothered though, and continued gazing at Blake sympathetically. The look in Yang’s lavender eyes was proof she cared; Blake felt bad that she ever questioned the girl before. She simply couldn’t help being on edge around new people, especially given her history. 

“My dad and uncle are real good at what they do.” Yang added, mouth half full. “If anyone can find those would be killers it’ll be them, and they’ll do it fast too.”

Blake looked at Yang, pleading. 

Yang simply nodded. “I promise Blake. They’ll find them, and you’ll be able to go back to things as usual.”

 _I’m not sure that will ever be possible._ Blake thought as she aggressively masticated a piece of pork. 

“You wanna do anything tonight?” Yang’s question seemed out of the blue, but it was perfectly reasonable. Blake shrugged. 

“Like what?”

“Well, I could kick your butt at video games again, we could watch a movie…” Yang rattled off a list of activities typical of a sleepover, or worse, a date. 

“Got any horror movies?” Blake pointed her fork at Yang. 

“Ooh, into the dark and mysterious eh?” 

“It _is_ a dark and stormy night.”


	5. Chapter 5

Blake’s first two weeks living with Yang passed by before she knew it. The two girls fell into routine, borderline mondainity. Yang cooked almost daily and taught Blake how to, helping the faunus make her first successful roast chicken among other things. Sometimes Yang would do push ups on the floor, or pull ups on a mounted bar in the living room/kitchen while Blake read a novel or wrote in her notebook (sometimes she just watched Yang instead). They’d alternate chores, cleaning mostly, like any good roommates would, except that Yang would _always_ vacuum (Blake always hated that, it hurt her sensitive ears) and Blake would _always_ dust (before Yang had done so and ended up sneezing and sniffling for the better part of three hours. ‘Extreme hay fever’ she called it.). 

She’d finally gotten in contact with her parents again, though the phone call had been all too brief. They were doing fine (thank _god_ ), followed everywhere by a retinue of guards and shuttled around by police. It would be a standard affair, they said, until the would be assassin(s) were found. They were having enough trouble trying to avoid the media as it was; after all, a high profile assassination attempt of the leading faunus rights figure? That was a scoop everyone wanted in on. An in person meeting would have to wait. Still, even just hearing her parents voices, _knowing_ for a fact that they were ok, practically brought her to tears. 

Visits with Ilia, anyone really, were infrequent. Blake was glad she was a bit introverted to begin with, otherwise the solitary living might have gotten to her. Yang was respectful of her space and didn’t bother her when it was clear she wanted to be left to her own devices; she could tell Yang was often bursting with questions, topics of conversation, stories, but she was wise enough to know that there was a place and time when it came to Blake. 

The most embarrassing thing for Blake was the nightmares. They didn’t come every night; they never had, but their frequency had increased ever since the attack. She’d have twisted flashbacks and eerie fabrications of the future. Her father would be sprawled out again before her, blood oozing from his chest, too red, so much she felt like she would drown in it. 

Sometimes she’d see him. See Adam. He’d be hurting her, hurting her _family_ , eyes cold and blue as ice and full of hate. Her mind refused to let her be and he haunted her memories, stalked her in her waking anxieties. A voice in her mind always asked; what if he did it? What if he attacked her father? What if she was next? 

He always had a way of getting in her head. 

Yang was always alert and on watch. If Blake ever cried out, nightmare or otherwise, she would burst into the room, gun ready, eyes red, scanning for any danger. She never complained about the nightmares, their frequency, the fact that they were false alarms. Instead she was always… _there_. She’d put a kettle on and stay up with Blake as, long as she needed, rubbing her back, walking her through breathing, making her a snack sometimes (she was starting to fall in love with mini PB and J crackers, despite the mess they always made of the bed). It was more than she ever could have expected. The way she reacted, Blake was certain Yang had experience dealing with such things before. That thought broke her heart. 

Blake never invited her back into her bed again though, still embarrassed about the first time it had happened, despite the fact that Yang never brought it up or complained, or the fact that it had already been two weeks since. 

Really, it all was starting to seem too good to be true. Yang was almost the perfect roommate; _too_ perfect, honestly. Some of it had to be her professionalism as a bodyguard, but maybe, on a certain weird, intrinsic level, they just ‘clicked’. She hoped so at least. 

Blake decided to pose the question to her late on a Tuesday evening. The two were watching a zombie tv show, Yang wrapped in her fleece blanket, Blake wearing her coziest hoodie, both in their pajamas. 

“Hey uh,” Blake began, watching as Yang threw some popcorn into her mouth (she’d taught Blake how to make it on the stove earlier).

“Myesh?” Yang’s mouth was half full, eyes curious. Blake should have found it disgusting, but when it came to Yang? It was just endearing. 

Blake leaned over and grabbed some popcorn out of their shared bowl, getting her fingers covered in butter and salt. “Do you want to sleep in the bed tonight? I know pull out couches aren’t exactly comfortable, Yang.” 

Yang laughed, punching the couch they were sitting on with a few quick jabs. “It’s done me well so far! I’m not exactly screaming for a chiropractor.”

 _Or a personal trainer._ Blake couldn’t help but glance down at Yang’s biceps. It wasn’t her fault they were right in front of her. 

“You know,” She turned the volume down slightly on the TV. The sound of some unfortunate extra getting his face eaten off wasn’t really the backdrop she wanted. “Yang you don’t to act tough or brush it off for me. I _know_ the couch is uncomfortable. I tested it while you were in the shower once.” 

“Stealthy. You’re like a ninja or something.” Yang put on an aloof face, but Blake could tell she was embarrassed. It was the same look she had when she told Blake about her family. Sheepish. Nervous. Unnatural on such a strong individual. 

“I wish.” Blake rolled her eyes. “Seriously Yang, take the bed for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Yang paused, clearly thinking. “Nah. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to it, y’know? Keep the bed Blake. I don’t want you to sleep out here.” 

“Not even for one night?” 

“It’s fine! Seriously.” 

“Is it?” Blake placed her hands on her knees, grip tight. 

Yang looked at her, eyelids lowered in shame. “... is something wrong Blake? Because if there is I-” 

“I just-” Blake stopped, thought caught in her throat, emotions turning as she looked at Yang’s face. “I don’t know you just seem… _perfect_ sometimes. Like, everything you’ve done for me. You’re my bodyguard, but you’ve also been feeding me, taking care of me when I can’t sleep I-” 

Yang’s expression was soft, vulnerable. Her lavender eyes were locked onto Blake’s as she spoke. Blake got scared that she would fall in, topple over the edge of the well, drown if she wasn’t careful. She hadn’t released how badly she’d longed to be looked at in that way since Adam. 

“I wanted to do something for you.” 

“Blake,” Yang paused for just a second before responding. “I’m fine. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just-”

Blake clenched her fists. She knew her anger was unwarranted. That just made her feel worse. “Doing your job?”

“No I-” Yang started to reach for Blake’s shoulder, her blanket falling off her shoulders as she leaned in. Her hand paused in mid air, like repulsing magnets. “I was scared you didn’t like me.” 

Blake felt her ears droop very, very low. 

“We have to live with each other for a while, and I thought maybe we could-”

“Could what?” Blake prompted, prodding carefully. 

“Y’know, be friends? Like, job aside you seem really cool and stuff. And you let me kick your butt at video games.” Yang laughed sheepishly. “Maybe I’ve been laying it on too thick, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable Blake.”

Blake would have responded if her mind hadn’t gone blank. Yang continued. 

“The couch bed. You’re right. It’s super uncomfortable, but I can’t ask you to switch with me. Besides…” Yang gestured to the window, where her case of weapons rested nearby, metallic, dangerous. 

“Aside from the door, that’s the only other way in here. It’s safest if you stay in the bedroom.” 

Blake thought hard. Really hard. She was frustrated that the conversation had turned back into a security discussion, but she couldn’t blame Yang. Besides, she still had an idea. 

“Then sleep with me.” 

Yang was forming a wild, wide ass grin before being stopped promptly by Blake’s finger and a narrowing of the eyes. 

“And no, I am _not_ flirting with my bodyguard Ms. Xiao-Long.”

Yang smirked and rolled her eyes, shoulders relaxing. Blake’s heart leapt in her chest. When Yang was comfortable, when she was _confident_ , relaxed, it made her blood run hot and her chest feel tight. She couldn’t help it that Yang was attractive. 

“What’s your _business_ pitch then, Ms. Belladonna?” Yang teased, folding her hands together. 

“Well, we’ve done it before.” Blake continued to speak, cutting off what was surely some quippy comment from Yang. “And you can guard me while you’re right next to me. That, and you’ll sleep better, and I don’t want a bodyguard that’s depriving herself of sleep on my account.” 

“Touche.” Yang nodded slowly. The blond glanced over at the window, which had been covered by curtains since early that night, then back to Blake, as though cataloging the other girl. 

“Alright. I remember you being good about not stealing the covers. One thing though -” 

Blake was far too busy trying to get her heart to stop threatening her ribs to respond with anything other than, “what?” 

“One more episode!” Yang leaned straight across Blake’s body and grabbed the remote off Blake’s armrest, either obvious or _completely_ aware of the effect it had on Blake, which was to say, she was probably legally dead for the five seconds the motion took. 

\-----

Yang, contrary to what she had hoped, slept _terribly_ in Blake’s very comfy, very warm bed. The first time, after Blake’s nightmare, she’d already been tired enough to just sort of drift once she’d gotten nice and cozy. 

This night though? No such luck. Her brain felt like it was on fire. They both stuck to seperate sides of the bed, initially with their backs to each other. Yang made the mistake of flipping over, and at some point, an already asleep Blake turned in her sleep as well. 

Being able to see the faunus’s sleeping face so close to her? Very dangerous. Her features were striking up close; sharp cheekbones, elegant, like carved stone. She had long lashes, even without makeup, that were as black as her hair, which looked softer than the sheets they both rested in. If the world were a better place, she easily could have been a model. 

_She doesn’t even have my crazy hair routine._ Yang smiled, carefully moving a strand of hair that had fallen onto Blake’s face, causing her nose to twitch like a rabbit’s.

 _She probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison._ Yang pulled her hand back, half out of guilt, half out of fear that Blake would awaken. She couldn’t hear much over her heart pounding, though she tried in vain to focus on the occasional sound of a car passing by outside, or the ticking of the clock on the wall. Something to take her mind off of the situation. There was a professional line she couldn’t cross; both in her mind and practically. She was a bodyguard. Blake was the person she’d been tasked to protect, come hell or high water. Their relationship was a front, and when they were finished, they would likely part. 

Catching feelings for her wasn’t apart of the contract. 

A long sigh escaped her lips as she continued to gaze at Blake’s face, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, curved like a mountain range, and the slightest sound that would escape her mouth now and again as she rested, hopefully peacefully. It was warm in the bed, just how Yang liked it. Way nicer than the couch. Maybe if she was really, _really_ lucky she could sleep with Blake every night. 

The night passed in utter calm. Blake dodged any nightmare that may have been stalking her, and though Yang wanted to credit her presence as the cause, she knew it was more likely just chance. She slipped out before Blake and out of the bedroom, turning the coffee maker on with tangible need. 

She yawned as quietly as she could manage into the side of her arm and pulled out one of her favorite blends to start the morning with. Everyday she made a cup for Blake too, though she’d caught on by now that the Faunus preferred tea. She simply made her a cup of both. Even die hard tea drinkers needed the extra caffeine sometimes, and Yang could always drink what Blake didn’t finish. 

_Everything else about her is incredible. I think I can let not liking coffee slide._ Yang chuckled to herself as she pulled out a few ingredients for breakfast. Ruby would often try to worm her way out of eating the most important meal of the day, so at some point, Yang just started getting up before her and cooking, even though there were plenty of times she wanted to laze in bed till 1.

“I oughtta give her a call today…” Yang mused as she diced up some potatoes. She’d since recovered from Blake’s deadly mashers, and home fries sounded damn good. 

“You sure get up early.” Blake entered the room with a yawn, trying to rub the sleep away from her eyes. 

“Did I wake you, or are my habits just starting to infect you?” Yang grinned, waving a spatula at Blake. 

“Neither.” Blake groaned. She walked next to Yang and leaned against the counter, her hair suffering from a moderate case of bed head. Yang resisted the urge to tell her how cute she looked. “Did you sleep any better last night?” 

“I was doing good before I had a zombie nightmare.” Yang lied. Blake didn’t really need to know the actual reason she wasn’t fully rested. “Last time I watch that show before bed.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be strong and fearless or something, oh bodyguard of mine?”

“Hey, hey, I’m plenty strong, but there’s only so much these guns can do against the horde.” Yang flexed proudly to prove her point and was rewarded with a stare and an obviously dry mouth from Blake, who coughed loudly in order to change the subject. Yang couldn’t help but grin, even though she’d just been thinking about the impossibility of the situation earlier. 

“Um. Anyways you can keep sleeping with- _next_ to me if you’d like.”

Yang felt like she’d just won the lottery. “Oh, so you _did_ like sleeping with your bodyguard.”

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that right.”

“I prefer the terms ‘suave’, ‘cultured’, _’smooth’_. Besides. You love it.” Yang knew she was treading dangerous territory, but she couldn’t resist. Blake was just so-

“Oh, I do, do I? I wasn’t aware.” There was no way her tone could be mistaken as anything other than flirty. Yang had been around long enough to be able to tell the difference. 

Both seemed to notice the weird tension and looked away from each other, Yang happy to have her cooking as a welcome distraction. 

“I mean, you haven’t fired me yet so that must mean I’m doing pretty good!” Yang decided to turn the topic into something decidedly platonic. 

“Well I didn’t exactly get a chance to read any reviews about you online.” Blake laughed and walked over to the coffee maker, grabbing Yang’s mug out of the cabinet and pouring some of the precious, precious dark liquid in. 

“You like it with just a bit of cream, right?” Blake asked, grabbing the tiny carton of coffee cream out of the fridge, giving it a playful shake. 

“You noticed?” Yang was genuinely surprised. “But yeah, just a splash please.”

“I was surprised actually.” Blake handed Yang her cup of coffee after pouring in some cream, watching with satisfaction as the milk swirled around, making neat little rising clouds. “I thought someone as _cultured_ as you would prefer it straight.” 

“I used too when I was edgier. I’ve softened up. Would you believe I dyed my hair black once?” 

“That seems impossible considering how much you care about your hair.” Blake sneered teasingly. 

“Mm. I was trying to look cool.” Yang winced unconsciously as she recalled a memory. One she hadn’t been meaning to relive. It stung like an open cut, made her aware that the part of herself she hated was still, well, a part of her. 

“You ok?” Leave it to Blake to notice. 

“Oh yeah. I’m fine. Probably slept on my neck wrong or something.” Yang placed her hand on the side of her neck, tilting it sharply and getting a satisfying crack in return. “Aw, yes!”

Blake stuck out her tongue, disgusted. “Ugh. Do that on your own time.”

Yang simply smiled back as Blake poured herself a cup of coffee as well, begrudgingly, perhaps.   
“You don’t have to keep drinking that by the way. I know you like tea better.” 

“Oh, tea is _definitely_ better.” Blake scoffed as she sat down at the table. “But it’s grown on me I guess. I don’t mind the extra caffeine in the morning.”

“Ooh, I’m slowly infecting you with my ways…” Yang gave the potatoes a flip before leaving them on the stove, satisfied they’d be ok for a while. She pulled a chair out with flare and sat across from Blake, wiggling her eyebrows repeatedly. 

“I suppose I could do worse.” Blake adopted a knowing smile. “At least then I’d hopefully get the muscles.”

“Oh, jealous?” Yang leaned across the table, trying to accentuate her biceps a bit. 

Blake simply sipped her coffee, locking eyes with Yang. “You could call it that.”

Deserts were dry, but Yang was pretty sure no amount of water would ever fix her now sandy throat after the look Blake just gave her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi hiiiiiii  
> there's been so much great response im really just major blushu thank you all so much! not as long a chapter this week but next update is gonna be pretty long so look forward to it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS updated later than i planned, life being life yknow  
> its busy on the farm cause all the babies are gettin born and i got my second job too so im like,,,,,  
> ANYWAYS

Blake was very eager about her day out and about with Yang, having looked forward to it all week, though she'd never admit it. She was craving some fresh air and the feeling of city pavement under her feet, sunlight sinking into her skin and the blacktop. When she was younger she’d visited Vale before, and even lived there for a while with _him_. Those years had been full of distraction; she couldn’t go out whenever she wanted, it all had to be cleared through Adam first. She never really knew the city truly, having only seen it through the lens of his tight, tyrant like control. This was different though. Yang wanted to show her things, to take her places, and Blake _wanted_ to go. Despite being under strict rules to protect her, Blake felt far more free with Yang than she had even with her parents. Comparing the situation to living with Adam would be an unfunny joke. 

The weather was perfect; bright and sunny with just enough breeze and she dressed for it; a white sleeveless blouse, a black skirt that draped just above her knees, and of course, a pair of comfy sandals. Yang was similarly dressed, though she had to wear a shirt and pants hefty enough to conceal her pistol; she still looked great of course, and Blake knew that she’d be getting looks and glances, not that she could fault any of them. If she was walking across the street and saw someone like Yang she would stare too. 

That was partially why she still felt very, very weird (not to mention self conscious) as she strolled down the street with her bodyguard, the latter occasionally grabbing her hand, pointing things out to her with an eager, easy smile, like it all came naturally to her, like she'd known Blake for years. Yang was a textbook extrovert, almost the complete opposite of Blake. The fact they got along as well as they did in private didn't seem to make sense, but it worked. It clicked. 

The two were headed to a popular burger joint downtown, where Yang claimed she would order a ‘triple bacon burger with onion rings and fried avocado, extra mayo and diablo hot sauce’, the thought of which made Blake metaphorically reach for a bottle of antacid. For someone who cooked as much, and as well as Yang did, Blake was starting to wonder if her dietary habits were the same when she was by herself, with no one to judge. Regardless, her tolerance for spicy food was pretty alarming; Blake wouldn't be surprised if it turned out Yang could breathe fire. 

Blake didn’t feel bold enough to reciprocate the PDA's easily so the oneous of keeping up appearances fell on Yang. She was curious if that ever bothered her at all; put her off even. Blake’s somewhat standoffish attitude had already convinced the blond prior that she didn’t like her; she’d hate for that to still be the case. 

They’d finally reached downtown Vale, hands entwined, when Blake’s eyes lit up as they walked past a bookstore, like little gold coins. A slew of posters and cardboard stands were hung up and propped around the entrance, advertising a new novel by one of her favorite writers. She walked right up to the glass, placed a hand on it, like she was trying to phase through it. 

“You know, we could just go in?” Yang popped up next to Blake with a shrug and a grin. 

“Can we? I know how much you want your weird heart attack burger. I wouldn't want to keep you from an early death.” Blake teased and approached the glass door eagerly, pushing the entrance open for Yang. The store had that 'textbook’ smell, musty paper mixed with fresh plastic and floor cleaner. 

“I’m gonna pretend to be hurt by that. Is this some book you were excited for?” Her bodyguard slid past her, purple eyes darting about like fireflies, scanning the store for anything of note, or possibly a threat. It wasn't particularly crowded; a few people were moving through the aisles but most were hunkered down with a cup of coffee from the cafe and a book or a laptop. 

“Yeah. I'd actually forgotten it was coming out so soon.” Blake followed after her and took the lead, marching over to the romance section of the store. The author in question was one of her favorites; she played with different time periods, different worlds and yet, her romances were always relatable, truly touching. “With everything that happened I… well, you know. Stuff fell through the cracks.”

Yang gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Well, let's fix that. My treat.”

“Everything's been your treat.” Blake rolled her eyes. Yang always paid for everything, and she always did so with cash. Cards could be traced of course. Hopefully she’d be able to repay her in the future. 

Blake never mentioned how excessive all of Yang's security measures were starting to seem. Absolutely nothing had happened. No stalkers, no threats, no suspicious packages. She hadn't even been the one originally targeted; her father was the one in danger. Her parents only placed her with Yang out of an outpouring of concern, but it was becoming stifling. She wanted to be able to go outside alone, to leave the window open on a rainy summer night. She wanted to spend time in public with Yang where they could could call each other by their _real_ names, where Blake could take Yang to _her_ favorite places, like her home in Menagerie, the tea store where everyone knew her name, or Tuscon's used bookshop, where the friendly faunus owner would put aside books he thought Blake might like. It all seemed far away now. She hadn't even told Velvet at the tea shop that she was going somewhere. She wondered if they were wondering where she was, wondering if she was she was ok. 

“Deep in thought?” She snapped back to reality at Yang's question. 

“Sorry. Zoned out. Anyways… aha, there it is.” Blake practically scurried over to the recently released novel, displayed proudly on its own rack in the middle of the romance section, the author's name written in bold, huge letters, as though that were more of a draw than the actual novel’s title. 

“Is it a looove story?” Yang asked, struggling to hide a shit eating grin as Blake cradled a hardcover copy of the book like a child. 

“Her books are more than just romances. They're like… little worlds.” Blake responded all too quickly, heat rising up from her neck. “Places you can get lost in.”

She was worried Yang might make fun of her, but her bodyguard just smiled at her, admiring, drinking in Blake's happiness like it fueled her own. 

“That's a pretty glowing review. Maybe I should check one out…”

Blake stared, (didn't admire, certainly just stared), as Yang looked over on the bookshelf nearby, finding the same author's books tucked away in alphabetical order. She pulled one out, seemingly at random, and Blake couldn't have moved fast enough to stop her as she flipped to a random page. 

“Oh uh- maybe not that one!” Blake's voice picked up an extra octave and her blush ran just as high as she saw Yang's eyes grow wide, skimming the page she had flipped to. 

“Oh. Honey.” Yang closed the novel and looked at Blake like she'd just learned every little sorry secret she'd been trying to hide, smile predatory and amused, a cat playing with its prey. “This is filthy.”

\-----

Blake spent the rest of the walk to the burger shop trying to be less red, less flushed. It wasn't going very well. Yang had a smug air about her the whole way over, and her faux flirting had taken on a teasing, playful tone. 

It wasn't Blake's fault Yang had accidentally picked what was easily the most explicit novel of the bunch. Hopefully Yang wouldn't find her copy she had back at the apartment. She made a mental note to hide it under the bed or something. 

“I'm glad we got you a copy though. There weren't actually that many left, huh?” Yang dropped her goody tone for a moment, walking with her hands in her pockets. 

“Definitely.” The book swayed at Blake's side, held in a plastic bag. “I remember I had pre-ordered a copy at the store I used to go to. I wonder if he gave it to anyone else.”

Yang drew closer to her and lowered her voice, taking on a dreary tone. “Are you home sick?”

Blake breathed in, let her nerves settle. “I think so. I'm ok though.”

Yang didn't bother her as much the rest of the way and returned to her vanilla flirting. 

The burger joint was crowded, and after trying one, Blake realized why. She was so impressed (they had a burger with an _ahi tuna steak_ on top), she even tried a bite of Yang’s monstrous order, and hated how much she liked it (for the first fifteen seconds at least, before the hot sauce kicked in). Blake was convinced they'd both need to be rolled out of the building after the amount of food they'd consumed. She made a mental note to wash her hands especially carefully when they got back home (when had she started calling it _home?_ ), to make sure she didn't get her new novel all greasy. 

They exited the restaurant, pleasantly plump and full. The sun was still out, providing light and warmth for another hour more before night fell. Yang preferred to walk while it was still light out, though Vale was a well illuminated city, even after dark. The streets were still crowded with pedestrians, also taking advantage of the nice weather, though perhaps not as nice company. 

“Thanks Yang.” Blake noticed that her gait was drawing her closer to her bodyguard's side. A subtle magnetism was forming alongside their friendship. 

“What for?” An honest question. 

“I had fun today.” Blake smiled, simply, clearly. “Even got a new book out of it.” 

Yang chuckled. “It's no problem. Just don't read that right behind me on the couch while I'm playing games. I know what's in there, babe.” 

Blake groaned right as Yang punctuated her sentence with a wink. She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I told you, not all her stuff is so-”

“Hot?” Yang elbowed her in the ribs. “It's chill. We all have our guilty pleasure.” 

“Oh, do tell babe.” Blake couldn't resist the obvious question. The professional lines were starting to blur. 

“Hm.” Yang hummed thoughtfully and low, and approached Blake closely. The faunus swallowed, or she tried to. The blond had a way of making her throat run dry. Yang looked at her like she was measuring something, calculating, running complex equations with no clear answers. She moved in front of her, cutting off Blake's path, stopping her in her tracks, though her heavy gaze would have more than sufficient. 

“What?” Blake asked, curious, nervous. 

“Do you really wanna know?” Yang’s voice, husky and saturated with implications, made Blake's breath come in sharply, the only thing cooling down her now warm(er) body. She looked at her so intensely, a specific question budding in her lavender gaze. Her hand moved towards Blake, the motion so small it was almost imperceptible, before it came back to rest at Yang's side. 

“I'll tell you when you're older.” Yang winked. 

Blake didn't have a good explanation for the disappointment in her chest. “We're like, the same age.” 

“You're still younger! A wee lil’ baby…”  
Yang teased her, poking her buttons. 

“I'll make you spill your secrets sometime.” A roll of the eyes later and Blake had moved back in front of Yang, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt. 

They continued an easy banter on the way home, walking step in step, sometimes hand in hand, exchanging jokes, laughing at stupid puns. She convinced Yang to stop for ice cream at a small stand in the park, greedily ordering a mint chocolate chip scoop in a waffle cone. 

“I hadn't pinned you as a mint chocolate chip girl.” Yang plopped down on a bench next to her after paying the shop keep, holding a double scoop of waffle cone-ed cookie dough in her hand. How she had the room for two scoops after her giant burger was beyond Blake's comprehension. 

“I told you I contain multitudes. Nothing beats mint on a summer night.” 

“I think something about the green throws me off.” Yang wrinkled her nose at Blake's cone, making faunus companion laugh. “Looks radioactive.”

“Maybe I'll give myself super powers.” Blake waved her cone like a magicians wand. Yang laughed before digging into her frozen treat and Blake tried to convince herself that she wasn't thinking about what else Yang's tongue was capable of as she licked her ice cream. 

The sky was beautiful. Simple as that. Blake had trouble remembering the last time she'd just sat and enjoyed a nice evening outside, indulging in a cone of ice cream and good company. Yang gazed at the horizon as well, and Blake could see the fiery colors reflected in her eyes, already naturally a cool purple. They looked like miniature sunsets, dioramas of the sight before them. 

Blake felt her mouth open, felt that she might say something stupid, when both of their attention was drawn to the ice cream cart, now surrounded by a group of three young men, shuffling about with the unmistakable slovenly signs of drunkenness. 

“I ain't paying five bucks for some ice cream.” The tallest one of the group jeered, getting support from his posse. “S'pecially not when it's made by an _animal_.” 

Blake shattered the rest of her cone in her hand and rose from the bench, 

“Blake-” Yang tried to grab her shoulder, but she'd already risen up from the bench, and was headed straight towards the group. 

The poor deer faunus that had previously served them was shrunken in, afraid of what the three intoxicated humans might do. 

“What's your problem?!” Blake hissed, eyes turned to slits like golden razors, narrowed like she wished her gaze would cut the human before her. 

“Scuse’ me?” The human laughed with a hic, alcohol drifting off his breath. He was built sturdily; stocky, broad shoulders. He might have been attractive if he wasn't a racist shit. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Leave.” Her voice was pure poison, acrid, toxic. His eyes widened at her sudden verbal attack. 

He looked at his two friends and they all burst out laughing. Blake clenched her fists as hard as she possible could palms hurting and straining against the force. 

“You some kinda animal lover?” The stocky one asked, obviously baiting Blake. “Come on, you're too pretty for that babe. Whole city's going to shit, isn't it?” 

“What did you call me?!” Blake felt her anger reach a fever pitch, almost lashing out again when she felt Yang's hand on her shoulder, pressured, but not tight. She wanted to tear her bow off, show them who they were messing with, even if it was a stupid idea. Her blood was properly boiling, raging like lava. 

“We can't make a scene.” Yang whispered in her ear, tone serious. Blake shot her a look, anger creasing her features. 

“And just let them harass her? We have to do something.” Blake demanded an answer. The human men just chuckled as they looked on; oblivious to the fact that the deer faunus was already slinking away into the park, taking advantage of the distraction. 

“Let's just get out of here.” Yang insisted, ignoring the boys. 

“Get outta here huh?” One of the boys elbowed the stocky one. “Why don't you two ladies get outta here with us?”

One of them made an off handed comment about Yang's chest, whistling low and getting a laugh of approval from his friends. 

It took every ounce of Blake's strength to not spit in his face. The men were looking at them lecherously, drunk, dumb, and dangerous. 

“Not a chance buddy.” Yang took the lead and sneered at them. She placed her arm around Blake's shoulder protectively, pulling her away from the group. “Let's go.”

“What, you a fucking lesbian or something?” The one with the broad shoulders spat. “Maybe you've never been with a real man babe. That could change tonight…”

He took a shaky step forward as they stepped back. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Blake pushed Yang's arm off her shoulder and placed herself right in front of the man, fists held close to her side with a combative gaze. “Don't talk to her like that!” 

The man rolled his eyes. “I don't even care about you anymore. S'pecially if you're gay and an animal lover. Maybe you're even an animal fucker-” 

Blake opened her mouth to retort, to spit curses, but she lost the opportunity when Yang's fist collided with his jaw, a cracking sound snapping out, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

“That does it!” Yang yelled, flicking a spatter of blood off her fist. Her eyes were red, full of fire, And the other men cowered as she stared them down. “You want some too!?”

Blake took a large step back from Yang, unsure of how to react to her outburst. It was... frightening. Incredible. Unsettling. Sexy. She wasn't sure how to feel. 

The man on the ground cradled his jaw gently and pulled himself up off the ground, clothes now covered in dirt and grass, looking even more disheveled than before. 

“You bitch!” He hissed, spitting out a wad of blood. “Get her you idiots!” 

He lunged at Yang again, fist held high. She brought her hands up close to her chin, bent her knees, and dodged timely to the side, riposting with a vicious punch to the boy’s ribs that sent him spiraling down. He collapsed on the ground, clutching his chest, trying to catch his breath. His friend moved in next, fists coming in wild, uncoordinated swings. Yang clicked her tongue as she easily dodged, his move far too well telegraphed. Now that he was completely open, Yang pulled back, her hands wrapped around each other, and launched her elbow at his back violently. It collided with a fleshy, painful sounding thump, like he’d landed on a boulder. 

Blake winced, blinking her eyes tightly as though it would shield her from the violence. She opened, them, glanced up, saw the last one standing on his phone, probably calling the police. 

“Oh, shit.” She mumbled. Yang glowered at him like a feral wolf, having already taken down both of his friends with scarcely any effort. 

“S-stay away from me you crazy bitch!” His voice lacked any confidence. Blake wanted to slap him from calling Yang a bitch, but her bodyguard was way ahead of her. The blond sauntered up to him casually, not a single lock of hair out of place, and grabbed him by his collar. 

“We’re leaving. _You_ stay the hell away from us.” Yang’s voice was all venom, lacking any kind temperament. She'd never seen Yang be so aggressive. 

Blake couldn’t tell if he pissed his pants, but felt that it was probably safe to assume as much. Yang let go of his collar and walked back over to Blake, eyes still alight. Her stance wasn't aggressive though; protective, maybe. 

“Are you ok?” Yang asked sincerely. 

“I uh…” Blake wasn't sure how to respond. The sound of sirens in the distance answered for her. 

“Oh shit. Oh, I'm in so much trouble.” Yang pulled at her hair with two hands. “Oooh, fuck.” 

“It’s ok.” Blake wasn’t actually sure if it was going to or not, but felt the need to well, say _something_. “Look, they were harassing someone, we stepped in, they harassed us. We’ll just tell the truth. You're human, it'll be fine.”

“Cool, cool, cool, did I ever tell you that my uncle is a lieutenant in the Vale P.D?”  
Yang gave her the fakest smile ever. The shift from a confident, aggressive Yang to the sheepish sight before her was jarring. 

“Um. No, but isn’t that a good thing?” Blake questioned, drawing closer to Yang as the police pulled into the park. 

“Not particularly.”

\-----

“What the hell were you thinking Yang!?”

“What you wouldn't have done the same thing?! They were harassing her!”

“I wouldn't have lost my cool and punched out some random assholes!” 

Yang huffed and slammed her back against her chair, tapping a foot rapidly in irritation. Blake stayed silent, hands in her lap, eyes down. She didn't have fond memories from the last time she'd been in a police station, and this current visit wasn't shaping up to be anymore pleasant. Yang's uncle, Qrow, was staring her down in the interrogation room. He was disheveled looking for a lieutenant, and reeked of cheap, musty cigarettes. She could of sworn she even smelled alcohol on his breath. 

“You're supposed to not be drawing attention to her, not getting the cops called on you.” 

Blake kneaded at her legs nervously as Qrow chewed Yang out, stealing glances at her bodyguard, noting the aggressive posture of her shoulders, the anger in her eyes. It looked like she might burst at any moment, a string tied to a bomb burning at a rapid rate. 

“They started it.” Yang replied darkly. Blake winced. That wasn't entirely true, even though it had felt that way at the time. 

“Not according to them.”Qrow paced around the room anxiously. “According to them, they were just talking when you broke one of their jaws. He says he might press charges Yang!”

Yang didn't respond, but her leg started bouncing even faster, the soles of her shoes tapping rapidly against the floor. Blake felt her pulse quicken, nerves anticipating an outburst, something violent. She felt angry, angry at how Qrow was haranguing her, angry at how those racist pricks had the nerve to not take any of the blame despite their baiting and their horrible words. 

“I told Tai you weren't ready to do this by yourself, and all you've done here is just prove me right.”

Qrow leaned in front of Yang, hands on the table between them. “C'mon firecracker. What's your excuse. I'm about to have a fucking tower of paperwork on my desk while I cover your ass!” 

“Lay off her!” Blake shouted, her chair clattering to the ground next to her.

“Blake, it's fine-”

“No it's not! If this is anyone's fault it's mine, so stop treating her like shit!” Blake slammed the palm of her hand against the table. Her fingers stung from the force. 

“You're out of line kid.” Qrow growled, though he looked more surprised than angry. 

She was about to continue shit talking him when she felt Yang's hand interlace with one of her own, tugging her back gently from the table. She stood next to Blake and drew her close by. Blake could hear her breathing, could feel her warmth. 

“Blake it's ok. Really. I promise.” Yang's voice was calm once again, hands resting on Blake's shoulders. 

“This is my fault though-” Blake began to protest, cut off by a loud sigh from Qrow. 

“Look, Ms. Belladonna, I need to talk to Yang alone. Can you wait outside with some officers?”

She looked at Yang for an answer, for permission. Yang smiled back at her, any trace of anger gone from her eyes as she looked at Blake. 

“We won't be long. We can go back to the apartment soon.” Her thumbs rubbed gently at Blake's back. 

“Yeah. Ok.” Blake sighed. “I just want to go home.” 

Yang seemed surprised by her choice of words, eyes widening before closing softly, a content smile resting on her face. 

“See you soon.” 

Qrow walked her out of the dark room and she was nearly blinded by the cheap fluorescent lights in the hallway, covered by weak plastic and harboring a dead cockroach or two. Apparently the VPD weren't prioritizing renovations. 

She sat down on a bench bolted to the wall, gladly accepting a terrible smelling cup of coffee from an officer. Two police were chatting near the end of hall, one of them gesturing at her, like she wouldn't notice. 

“Isn't that one of the Belladonna's? Those activists? I think I've seen her on TV.”

“It kinda looks like her, but they're all faunus. Can't be her.” The other officer shrugged and took a sip of the same shitty coffee Blake had. 

She ignored them. She ignored everyone around her. She just wanted to go home with Yang, sleep, and wake up to her cooking some delicious breakfast with a smile and her stupid apron on. 

Blake just really, really wanted to go home. 

\-----

Qrow sighed and rubbed his temples.  
“Look, I probably was too hard on you.”

Yang hummed quietly. “Are they really gonna press charges?”

Qrow chuckled wickedly scooting far back in his chair. “I'll take care of it. I've got plenty of sway around here. But don't pull a stunt like that again, ok?”

Yang breathed in relief, though she was still on edge. Her adrenaline was still high after her brawl in the park (if it could even be _called_ a brawl, she'd pretty handily beaten the tar out of them), and she was worried about Blake. She'd lost her temper; that wasn't ok, especially since it seemed to have unsettled Blake. Yang forgot how much of a hot headed idiot she could be, how violent, how stupid. 

They waited in utter silence, the room thoroughly soundproofed. It was an awful feeling. Yang felt that it was akin to choking; waiting, sitting in a stew of guilt, unsure of the fate to come. 

“Do you think you can still do this kid?” Qrow finally asked. His question hurt far more than any of his badgering. 

“What? Of course I can. I haven't had any slip up before this; Blake is as safe as anyone's gonna be.”

“It was a pretty big slip up.” Qrow huffed. “Those guys were chumps, but what if one of them had actually gone after her?” 

“I was watching her.” 

“Hopefully not the same way you were just doing.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Yang leaned forward combatively. Her fists tightened at the allegation. 

Qrow sighed and ran a hand over his face, scratching against his stubble. “I think you know kid. You have a job to do. Keep it PG.”

“It's fine uncle Qrow. I know what I'm doing.”

He matched her gaze intensely, digging around to either find the truth behind Yang’s words or find the twitch and tell of a lie. 

“Fine.” He finally responded. “Look, I'm not gonna tell Tai about this either, but this is the only mulligan you're getting. We clear?”

“Crystal.” Yang showed herself out.


	7. Chapter 7

It was awkward walking back. The dictionary definition of awkward. Partially because they were taken half the way there by police car and then had to trudge their way on foot in the darkness. Partially because neither of them spoke a word to each other the entire trip home, both at a loss, and both blaming themselves for what had happened. 

Yang messed up the lock the first time, swore, and then tried it again, jamming the key forcefully into the lock. It would have been funny on any other night, but Blake could sense the frustration was real. 

“Fuck everything,” Yang mumbled, before slumping into their apartment, collapsing on the couch in a heap, knocking off a pillow in the process. They’d been at the station for almost three hours combined and both of them were completely exhausted, every ounce of physical and mental energy spent. 

The day had been _so perfect,_ so lovely, that somehow, it almost made sense that it had all been thrown upside down in a second. Classic Blake Belladonna bad luck right there. 

Blake took a seat at the kitchen table, hunched over in shame. This had been _her_ fault after all. If she’d just kept her mouth shut things would have been fine. If she hadn’t tried to play the hero, Yang wouldn’t have gotten in trouble. She’d just gotten so _angry_. Because of the bow she hadn’t dealt with any faunus discrimination since moving in with Yang (not that she normally frequented places that weren’t explicitly faunus friendly to begin with really). She’d almost forgotten how ugly it was, how horrible it was to see humans lording over another person just because they had a pair of horns, or scales. She ripped the bow off the second the blinds in the apartment were shut and let her ears breathe. 

It made her even angrier to think that it was probably someone just like those boys, those stupid, hateful boys, that tried to murder her father. 

She sighed, pushed her hair out of her face and went over to Yang, who was still belly up on the couch like an exhausted teenager, lavender eyes practically glazed over with exhaustion as she stared at nothing on the ceiling. 

“I’m so sorry Yang.” Blake breathed, crouched down on her knees at the base of the couch. “If I hadn’t been so hot-headed none of that would have happened.”

“No.” Yang groaned and sat herself back upright, locking eyes with Blake. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Those guys were being terrible. If anything, you did the _right_ thing.”

Blake felt her face flush and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Yang continued. 

“I’m the one who should apologize. I- I really hope it didn’t come off like I didn’t care about what they were saying to that faunus. I did care, I really did, I just-“

Blake felt terrible that Yang was even thinking that. Admittedly, she’d been pissed at her when she first suggested they simply walk away, but she knew she was just doing her job, like she had been flawlessly for weeks. Until Blake fucked it up at least. 

“I know, Yang.” Blake grabbed one of Yang’s hands and pulled it close, cradling it gently. “You’re not that sort of person. If we weren’t in such weird circumstances, I’m sure you would have been right there with me.”

Yang’s smile was weak, but it was there. “I’d like to think so.”

“I know so.” Blake insisted, giving the blond’s hand a tight squeeze. 

Yang looked bashful and scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, like she wasn’t used to receiving that sort of praise. The thought of that made Blake’s heart ache. “I also need to apologize for punching that guy in the face. Even though I definitely think he deserved it. I could’ve put you in danger- I _did_ put you in danger.” 

“Honestly?” Blake chuckled slightly, rubbed her fingers gently over Yang’s knuckles, were a dark patch of bruising was forming. “It startled me but… it _was_ kind of awesome.”

“You thought that was _awesome?_ ” 

“Watching someone as badass as you taking down three shit heads single-handedly?” Blake turned and bobbed her head, faux musing about the answer. “Pretty damn awesome.” 

Yang shrugged simply and averted her gaze, looking away from Blake’s wide smile. Her cheeks were red. “Yeah. It felt kinda good. Still, I probably shouldn’t have jumped straight to violence right?”

“I mean, sometimes-“ Blake cut her sentence off sharply once she realized what she was about to say, retracting, standing up away from the couch. She felt herself pale at the thought of repeating something that _he_ , almost verbatim, had told her as an excuse, as a _reason_ for nearly beating a man within an inch of his life with a bat. He almost died. Sometimes it’s necessary; she heard it in his voice. 

“Blake? What’s wrong? You look sick.” Yang stood up herself, eyes loaded with worry, and tried to place a hand on Blake’s shoulder. 

Blake pulled away quickly. “‘I- I’m fine. I’m fine.”  
Unspoken was the other mantras she repeated in her head. She’s not him. She did that for Blake. To protect Blake. It was justified, it _wasn’t_ the same. Those men would be fine. 

“Fuck,” Blake managed to curse before bolting to the bathroom, slamming the toilet seat up and vomiting into the bowl, her memories flashing too vividly. 

“Blake! Here, I’ll get you some water.” Yang had followed close behind her. She darted out to the kitchen and Blake heard her turning the faucet on, rummaging through a cabinet, maybe looking for medicine. She sincerely wished that medicine would have prevented her stomach curling in around itself. 

“Here,” Yang returned, placed a hand on her back and passed her a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” Blake coughed into the toilet, making sure she wouldn’t puke again. The last thing she needed was Yang watching her vomit like a drunk college kid. 

Yang rubbed circles on her back and stayed next to her, neither of them saying a word as Blake sipped on some water and caught her breath. 

“Why don't you go lie down? It's late anyways. You can sleep off whatever it is.” Yang suggested. Blake nodded quickly. She just wanted the day to be over, and her stomach and nerves were screaming for her to just like down. She didn’t want to think about the past anymore.

Yang walked her into the bedroom, hand on her back the whole way, making sure she wasn't going to have another episode of sickness. Blake threw her pajamas on haphazardly in the bathroom. She tossed her bra off and just let it sit on top of the sink; she was too tired. She'd get it later. Yang was gone when she came back into the room. 

“Yang? Are you staying up?” The blond was back in the other room, turning on her gaming console. 

“Yeah. Just for a bit. Need to unwind y'know?” Yang rolled her shoulders as she sat down on the floor, back against the couch, controller in hand. Blake always wondered why she didn't just sit on the couch itself (maybe some leftover trauma from the horrible spring mattress), but it seemed to be Yang's preferred pose. 

“Ok.” Blake didn't express her disappointment openly. It would have been weird to try and explain that she'd gotten so used to sleeping in the same bed as Yang that the thought of not going to bed at the same time felt sacrilegious, illegal somehow. “Night.”

“Night Blake.” Yang's smile was all honey and sunshine; a welcome sight. Blake retreated to the bed before her pulse quickened to the point that she couldn't sleep. 

\-----

It took one bad night, one bad decision to wail on some idiots in the park for Yang to suddenly feel fifteen again. Her mind drifted back in the past, and she's _there_ , hunched over an old photo album her dad had thought was well hidden in the attic. He'd looked at it recently if the disturbed dust was any indication, and it was the only reason she'd thought to open it while digging around for some tools. She found pictures, old pictures, of her dad, her mom and uncle, and some woman who bore such an uncanny resemblance to her she felt like her soul had been kicked out of her body. 

Her hands were tight around the plastic of her controller as her mind drifted into the memory. She remembered storming down the stairs, holding the old binder, shoving it in her father’s face like it was irrefutable evidence, which it _was_. 

“Who's she?” She had demanded. There were damming pictures in the album, pictures of a love long since lost. Pictures of an infant Yang being held by an exhausted woman with pitch black hair, curled in just the same ways her own golden locks. 

She stopped thinking for a moment and went over to the sink to get a glass of water. Wine would have been preferable but beggars couldn't be choosers. As long as she was 'working’, getting drunk was out of the question. She downed the glass in one go. 

Yang had become an petulant young terror after discovering the truth about her real mother, and the realization that her father had kept it from her her entire life. She was too young, too naive to know how to deal with her anger. Her whole life she’d been like a mother to Ruby after Summer, _their_ mother died. She’d worked tirelessly through her father’s depression to save their family, only for it to be revealed that he’d been lying to her for _years._

She started getting into fights, put the boxing lessons she'd taken since she was young to poor use, ran with a bad crowd, even got arrested once. Qrow kept her from going to juvie. The anger she felt earlier with the shit brains in the park had been more righteous than misplaced, but the weight of snapping under her emotions still bothered her. She could tell it bothered Blake too, despite what she'd said earlier. Yang wasn't blind. It had probably triggered Blake’s fit of sickness. 

She got the pullout bed ready from within the couch, taking careful care not to make too much noise. Blake deserved uninterrupted sleep, and Yang wasn't sure she could face her without feeling worse, even more guilty. She'd go back to checking on her through the night for now. 

Qrow's words from early lingered like a virus, annoying and incessant. He was just giving her honest advice; looking out for her like she knew he always would. It was hard when Blake was so damn _great._. She cared about Blake; a lot. It’s why she got so angry when the men in the park were spouting cruelties to her. No one deserved to speak to her that way, and she’d gladly beat up anyone who tried to. 

Seeing Blake get worked up earlier was incredible, and she'd even stood up for her back at the station. She was truly passionate about her feelings, _fiery_ even. It was inspiring, Yang thought, to see someone her age so willing to stand up for her beliefs, to stare wrongness in the face. Not to mention how fucking _hot_ it was. She’d met few people in her life that contained as many ‘multitudes’ as Blake did (she laughed, recalling Blake’s smugness the first time she’d said that). She was soft spoken, standoffish at times, but also bold, strong and confident, with a wit as sharp and precise as a pin. 

It had been becoming more difficult lately to go out in public with her. Yang could tell she was grabbing Blake's hand, touching her back, leaning in close to her, staring into her eyes, less out of a desire to do a good job and more because she just _wanted_ to. These feelings weren't good. Joining her in bed all those nights was a mistake; it was like playing chicken on the railroad tracks. Their time together was predestined to be short, just long enough to throw any would be attackers of her trail, find them before they could try to hurt her parents again. Her father had even messaged her earlier that they'd found Fennec and Corsac, Ghira's ex secretaries, and discovered that they'd been in on it, though they were proving hard to crack. She wasn't supposed to tell Blake, even though she wanted to; her father had requested it. He was worried how she might react to the information; she'd been betrayed, hurt but friends in the past apparently. Ghira didn't elaborate further than that and Tai and Yang were courteous enough to not pry. 

Of course the first person Yang would fall for in a long, _long_ time, would be a client, would be a beautiful faunus whose family was in danger, who had to uproot her life to stay with Yang, without much agency of her own. It was selfish to crush on her. Selfish to look at her and stare into her beautiful golden eyes and expect to see the same ache of longing she was starting to feel herself. It was selfish to feel that way towards someone she’d only known for a few weeks. 

She curled up into the pullout bed, alone, humming an old tune Summer would sing to her and Ruby as she mindlessly checked her phone. Normally Yang ran hot, but the bed felt cold, freezing even. Not to mention the fact that it was still a goddamn springy nightmare. 

\-----

Blake woke up and noticed that Yang’s side of the bed was untouched and unchanged from last night. There weren't little strands of golden hair spread across the pillow like normal (normally Blake just pats them all off while she makes the bed, which she insists on doing every morning). It was a weird sight, even though it shouldn't have been. Yang probably just wanted to sleep alone that night; something that was perfectly understandable considering the evening they’d had. 

But she was sad. Angry, maybe. She’d gotten so used to their nights together, gotten used to the warmth coming off Yang’s body, gotten used to falling asleep to the rhythm of her breathing, a simple constant. She didn’t _want_ to be alone at night anymore. 

Maybe she was being selfish. She probably was, considering that she was the one who’d strong armed Yang into sleeping next to her every night. She’d _insisted_ , shot down every excuse her bodyguard had made. Yang was in the kitchen, judging by the sounds. That, at least, appeared to be business as usually. 

“Yang, why did you sleep out here?” Blake cut to the chase, voice more accusatory than intended. “That bed is terrible.”

“Oh, uh,” She recognized Yang using the same tone everyone uses before they come up with a bad excuse. “You know, I didn’t want to bother you. I thought you’d sleep better alone.” 

Blake pulled out a chair from the table aggressively, making a rough screeching sound against the floor that made both of them wince. Uncomfortable moments passed before either of them said anything else. 

“I just made some eggs today.” Yang walked over with the food, and made another trip to the counter for some coffee and creamer before sitting down across from Blake. “Over easy. That’s your favorite right?” 

“I kind of think you’re lying.” Blake said quietly, cradling her cup for warmth. 

“About the eggs?” A bad attempt at a joke. “Are you a ‘hard-boiled’ detective now?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Yang.” Her eyebrows dipped in as she glared at Yang. “Look, it’s ok if you didn’t want to sleep together, but I think I deserve to know the real reason why.”

Yang trained her gaze on her coffee. Blake could tell she was weighing pros and cons in her head. 

“We had a long night. I just figured it was better that way.” 

Yang had been honest with her in the past. Really honest. She’d even told Blake about her family, her mother's death. It was stupid that she was lying about something that should have been trivial. 

“Whatever then.” They shared what was probably their most quiet breakfast together since the first. Seeing Yang so quiet, so withdrawn, was bizarre, discordant with everything Blake had come to know about her. Letting it remain that way wasn't an option. 

It was while they were getting ready Blake decided to confront Yang about it. They'd become too good of friends to just let it fester. 

“Was it what I did?” She asked quietly, coming up behind Yang while she brushed her hair. 

“What?” Yang breathed disbelief. “Blake is this about the bed thing?”

“Yes, it's about the 'bed thing’, because I can tell you're lying and -” Blake stopped, took a deep breath and continued. “We’ve known each other for weeks now. We’ve been living together. We're _friends_. You can talk to me about anything.” 

“We're friends huh?” Yang said it with a glaze of remorse, sorrow even. “I know I said I wanted to be friends, and I know we're a 'couple’, it just…”

“It just what?” She grabbed Yang's hand, startling the blond. “Yang, look at me, please.” 

Her plea worked, and Yang looked at her, _really_ looked at her. Blake shivered, not out of fright or anxiety. Anticipation was the only word that came to mind. 

“I’m worried I'm not being professional anymore.” Yang said it so quietly Blake could barely hear her. Her hand, which she'd held so many times previously, felt cold, and Yang gently tried to pull away. Blake squeezed it tightly before letting go. 

“What exactly do you mean by professional?” Her mouth felt dry, throat suddenly parched. She realized that there was only one answer she actually wanted to hear to that question, and the thought of hearing anything else, any sort of tacit rejection was terrifying. 

Yang took a step forward, brushed some stray strands of hair out of Blake’s face and kissed her, so softly and so briefly that Blake wasn’t even sure it happened. 

“You know. Not that.” 

“Oh.” Blake was so floored she forgot how to speak temporarily. “Oh.” 

Yang’s smile was so small, so abashed, so _sad_ , that Blake decided that the only thing she wanted was to fix it. She mirrored Yang’s actions from before, pushed her hair out of her face, noted how warm and soft her skin felt, and reunited their lips. 

She felt the slightest hesitation from Yang, surprise, probably, before she gave in fully, sighing quietly as she wrapped her arms around Blake’s form, pulling their bodies closer together. Blake couldn’t remember being touched like this, _ever_ , and wondered how she’d ever lived before without it. She knew she’d been falling for Yang for a while. She’d fallen for her gorgeous hair and body, her stupid, borderline annoying sense of humor, her kindness and thoughtfulness, strength and character, and she was completely incapable of handling the fact that her dream was coming true. Yang’s lips fit against hers perfectly, it felt. It was a puzzle being solved, a home being returned to, as natural as the sun and moon circling around in the sky. 

She let out a whimper of disappointment as Yang broke off their gentle kiss, and found herself immediately resting her head in the crook of Yang’s neck, winding herself around her body. 

“So.” Yang laughed, her voice beautiful and full of joy. “You _were_ flirting with your bodyguard.”

“Oh no, I’ve been found out.” Blake hummed, nuzzling her face against Yang’s shoulders. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Yang teased. The tone of her voice made Blake’s heart pound faster than lightning strikes. “But uh, maybe we should talk later. Talk about _this_ , I mean. Aren’t we supposed to be meeting Ilia in like, an hour?”

“Oh. Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 7! dang  
> thank you for reading this far! yalls comments have been super sweet and supportive and im thrilled so many people like it honestly.  
> i feel like my writing tends to be pretty inconsistent and i dont have anyone beta/proofreading this or anything so im like, sigh of relief over here


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT accidentally fucked up the initial upload because I suck whoops

“They caught Fennec and Corsac?” Ilia felt a chill in her body. “What about the safehouse in Vale, is it compromised?”

 _‘Not yet.’_ Adam's tone over the phone was _seething_. He kept his words steady and punctuated, but there was the weight of anger behind each syllable, a threat backing every consonant. ‘It's only a matter of time ‘till they find out that Sienna was responsible.’

“What do we do then?” Ilia shut her apartment door behind her, keeping her voice quiet. She pulled her jacket tightly around her. The nice weather was starting to fade into the chill of fall, but she felt cold for other reasons. 

_‘Nothing. We want Sienna out of the picture, remember? You're not backing out are you? All we do is make sure_ we _don't get caught.’_

“N-no.” Ilia quickly responded. She didn't have any particular love for Sienna; Adam had promised to do what others wouldn't, and had already amassed a sizable group of converts within the White Fang through subterfuge. He wasn't 'technically’ a member anymore after all. Not after Ghira kicked him out. Blake never really told her exactly what had happened, what he'd done. But she was convinced he was what the White Fang needed right now. The memory of her father being worked to death in a mine was still raw, still a gaping wound. She wasn’t sad at his funeral; she was just angry. Every part of her was angry, borderline fury incarnate.

 _’It might mean getting rid of Sienna early.’_ Adam talked about killing rather casually. He'd done it before and it came easily to him; Ilia wasn't sure she'd ever met someone so revenge driven before in her life. 

But it would get results. It would bring her Justice for all the indignities she'd suffered as a faunus. 

_’How's Blake?’_ She'd known Adam would ask about his former partner, her friend, her former crush, but she'd been fearing the question all the same. 

“Fine. I'm going to meet her right now.” 

_‘Is that insufferable blond with her?’_ Ilia hadn't spent as much time with Blake as she would have liked, and she didn't really know anything about Yang except that she was always armed and always on guard. She was observant; next level observant. 

“I told you, they're never apart. I'm honestly not sure how you're going to get a hold of her.” 

_‘I'm thinking. Regardless, you’ll be apart of the plan. Once I figure out how to get rid of the bodyguard we’ll move forward.’_

“Understood.” Ilia shivered. Adam hung up on her, having nothing else to say apparently. 

\-----

Yang and Blake got to the coffee shop early; they ordered their drinks quickly, paid in cash, and sat down in the middle of the shop, away from any windows; standard procedure that came easily to both of them now. There was a certain giddy air about them, the type other people could notice. They had a secret now, something only shared between them; a moment that had just been so damn perfect Yang couldn’t even believe it. She expected a slap, a shove, a demand for Yang to be fired, replaced with someone who wouldn’t fall head over heels for her like a high school girl ready to ask her out to prom. 

Even so, however, the two were silent for the most part. It was a strange combination of awkward and comfortable, safe and burgeoning with anxiety. Yang, for her part, had a smile absolutely plastered on her face since they kissed, and apparently it was pretty obvious. She even heard the barista as they walked away from the counter go, ‘wow, those two are really cute huh?’ The blush that had arisen on Blake’s face was literally worth every dollar Yang had to her name and then some. 

“How are you?” She finally asked, brushing her fingers lightly over Blake’s, silently asking for permission to hold them. 

“Mm,” Blake hummed, wrapping her hand around Yang’s. It had the same effect as a defibrillator on Yang. “Good.” 

Blake did look content, with her eyelashes fluttering softly against her eyes. She looked like she felt safe, and that meant to world to Yang, who didn’t realize how badly she really wanted this, someone she cared about giving her heart eyes, locking fingers with her together and really meaning it. She truly wished none of this awful stuff had happened to Blake, but at the same time, they might not have ever met if it hadn’t. Shit had a funny way of working out. 

“Good.” Yang mirrored, holding her coffee in her other hand. She’d learned so many little things about Blake; that her favorite teas were sencha and earl grey, that she actually really had a knack for making omelettes, how she meticulously made the bed every morning, the way she twisted her hair between her fingers when she was thinking, when she was embarrassed. 

“You know, I bet it’ll be hard to believe considering how incredible and brimming with confidence I am,” Yang began, wiggling her fingers in Blake's hand. 

“Oh boy.” Blake retracted her hand quickly. Her irritated tone didn’t match the smile on her face. 

“But… I was like ninety percent sure you were gonna fire me.” She said it quickly and rapidly, under her breath. Blake stifled a snicker. 

“Are you serious? Y- Yin, I wouldn’t ever do that. You’re…”

“Great? Amazing? Sexy?” 

“Shameless. But you are sexy, yes.” Blake's tone was so goddamn loaded with implications Yang wasn't sure how she didn't just drop dead right there. 

“Oh. Well it’s true.” 

Blake's giggle was quickly making its way into Yang's top five favorite sounds ever. 

“What are you two so happy about?” Ilia appeared at their table, coffee in hand, wasting no time in pulling out a chair right next to Blake. “Good news?”

Yang watched Blake's face as she ran through all the options. Was there really a good way to tell one of your close friends you actually were dating your bodyguard? Were they even dating? There hadn't exactly been time to put a label on it and Yang wasn't totally sure she wanted to. 

“Something like that.” Blake eventually settled on a non committal answer and bumped her leg against Yang's underneath the table. 

“Sure.” Ilia eyed them both suspiciously. “Well, I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” 

“Just since last Tuesday.” Blake shoved her gently in the shoulder, both laughing easily, casually. Yang watched, eyes mostly on Blake, as the two caught up again. She wished she was more involved in the conversation, but it was Blake's friend; a bit of normality in a world gone topsy turvy. As far as Yang was concerned, they'd earned all the time in the world to just talk to each other. 

As they conversed, Blake made a noticeable effort to include Yang in the topics of discussion. 'Oh, she finally got all the achievements in Grimm Eclipse 2,’ 'She taught me how to make an omelette’, 'we're thinking about starting an herb garden (that one was news to Yang but Blake looked so excited at the thought she immediately made plans to get supplies for it)’. Yang started to notice that Ilia was shooting her looks; not mean looks by any measure, but glances carrying suspicion, like she was waiting for some non existent facade of Yang's to crack. It was unnerving her a bit, but she wasn't about to worry Blake with an off handed feeling. Her gut said there was no danger at least. 

“I'll be right back.” Blake scooted out of her chair. “Restroom.” 

Ilia and Yang nodded in confirmation, and Blake gave an extra glance to Yang, a small, content smile on her face. 

“Just what the hell are you trying to pull?” Yang was so taken aback by the venom in Ilia's tone she almost fell out of her seat. 

“I'm sorry?” Surely she had just mispoken or something. Ilia stared her down and Yang could see her eyes shifting colors slightly, saturating into a dark red. 

“You know you're supposed to be faking it right?” Ilia tapped a finger against the table pointedly, while Yang was still dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond to Ilia’s sudden accusations. 

“What are you talking about?” Yang asked, her own tone becoming less than kind. Blake’s friend or not, there was no reason for her to just be suddenly attacking her. 

“Do you like her?” Ilia gestured with her eyes toward the restrooms. 

“Of course I do, we’re-”

“No, I mean do you _really_ like her?” Ilia’s tone was quiet and low, but aggressive, accuatory. Yang matched her gaze with her brows furrowed, her hands clenched tightly around her coffee cup.

“Does it matter?” She shot back, anger rising in the pit of her stomach like a volcano about to erupt. 

“Yeah, it does.” llia leaned back in her chair, looking smug now that Yang had indirectly answered her question. “Just because you’re a pretty face doesn’t mean you get to put her on whatever string you want. I’m her friend. I’m the one really looking out for her.” 

“Oh, really? Last time I checked that was me.” Yang growled. She wasn’t about to back down from Ilia, not about this. It was none of the other girl’s business, plain and simple. 

Ilia leaned across the table, looked at Yang like she wanted to light her on fire. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re just some girl she thinks she likes. You’re just some _human_ she thinks she likes. But I know Blake better than you ever will, and once she’s finally back with the people she really belongs with, she’ll forget all about you.” 

Yang paused for a moment. Her first instinct was to toss her coffee cup off of the table, grab Ilia by the collar, and throw her out of a goddamn window. It took a lot of self control to avoid doing that. She bit her tongue hard in her mouth to keep herself from throwing out a litany of swears and expletives, tried to will herself into calm. Whatever reasoning Ilia had for lashing out at her was beyond her, but she was clearly trying to get a rise out of her, upset her, make her blow her top. She wouldn’t give her the pleasure. 

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Yang finally responded with a smile as much venom as she could muster. Ilia looked back at her like Yang had thrown a vial of acid her way. 

“It everything ok?” Blake asked in a sheepish voice as she sat back down next to Yang, having returned from the bathroom. She was a smart woman; she clearly caught on to the tense atmosphere between her and Ilia. 

“Nothing. She just told a really terrible joke.” Ilia groaned, acting like her previous conversation with Yang hadn’t happened. 

“That does sound like her.” Blake eyed Yang suspiciously, teeth showing in her beautiful smile. Looking at Blake made her nerves calm, her shoulders soften. She felt her anger dissipate as it was replaced with admiration for the woman next to her. 

“You two have very different definitions of terrible compared to me. I thought it was _excellent_.” If Ilia was going to play dumb then Yang would too. They didn’t want to make a scene in public anyways; that, and she wasn’t even sure she was going to tell Blake about their conversation. Whatever it was she had with the faunus now, she didn’t want to jeopardize it by telling her that her friend had randomly attacked her and said that Blake needed to be with her ‘people’. Yang would keep it private for now, even though Ilia’s words had deeply unsettled her. 

“How’s… everything going Blake? You know, with that thing that was bothering you.” It was probably safe to assume Ilia was asking about the investigation. 

“It’s ok actually.” She grabbed Yang’s hand, squeezed it like a lifeline, and looked at Yang in a way that threatened to set her off like a firework. “I think everything’s gonna be ok.”

 _God I hope so_. Yang thought to herself silently, answering Blake’s smile with one of her own, and pushing Ilia’s strange comments into the back of her mind. 

——-

I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. Ilia poured herself a glass of wine shakily. After she’d parted ways with Blake and Yang she’d struggled to make it back home without crying her eyes out. She might even be suspicious of me now. 

When she was younger she had a crush (she convinced herself it was just a crush) on Blake, which really was quite understandable, considering how how gorgeous she was, how brightly her spirit burned. But she’d given up once she’d started seeing Adam. Everyone who was ever interested did. 

The way her friend had looked at Yang though, the way she had stroked her hand and batted her eyelashes, the gentleness and the joy behind her laugh- Ilia couldn’t even recall her looking at Adam that way, and Blake had been head over heels for him. It rekindled a jealous flame in her chest that she thought she exhausted, doused with the cold water of logic. That wasn’t even getting into the way Yang had behaved; that’s what really had driven her over the edge. Blake’s bodyguard certainly wasn’t faking anything anymore. She looked at Blake the same way people looked at sculptures in a museum, like priceless art, like a treasure found hidden away finally brought to the light of day. 

She’d given Adam another report but danced around Yang and Blake’s apparently newfound romance. When it came to Blake, Adam was territorial, like (she hated to say it but it was true) an animal, and she was in no mood to have to assuage his wrath. 

She’d leave that task to Yang when the time came. The poor human had no idea what was coming her way; it would be a storm, a natural disaster, and they’d take Blake and cure her from whatever poison she was being fed, whatever lies she was being told. It would take convincing, but Ilia wanted to fight alongside Blake again, fight back against the humans, even if that meant taking the… tough love approach. 

If it could even be called that anymore. 

——-

Yang knew she was acting awkward, and Blake, as astute as always, confronted her about it the second they got back to the apartment. 

“Yang are you ok?” She asked with her hand on Yang’s shoulder. “You started acting weird back in the coffee shop after I left. Did something happen?”

The debate between telling Blake the truth and coming up with a convincing lie was not one easily won. Yang gnawed on her lip, walked over to the window and checked outside for something to do to buy time, before Blake pressed her again. 

“You can tell me; honestly.” Blake wasn’t one to back down easily. 

Yang let her first excuse die in her mouth, but there was a question that was worrying her ever since she’d spoken with Ilia. 

“Does it… bother you that I’m human?”

Blake looked positively offended by the question, mouth agape, eyes reflecting hurt. “Is that what you were worried about?”

Yang shrugged in what was probably the most awkward gesture she’d ever given anyone. “Kinda.”

She wasn’t ready for Blake’s response, where she just smiled sweetly at Yang, walked towards her, and gently cupped her face with her hand, all warm and full of understanding. Blake leaned up, rose just enough to meet Yang’s height and kissed her, short circuiting the cabling in Yang’s brain. 

“Would I have done that if it bothered me?” Blake questioned her playfully, pushed golden locks out of the way of her eyes. “‘I… I like you Yang.”

Yang started to feel like she more than just liked Blake. “I dunno. Maybe you should do it again just so I’m sure.”

Blake shoved her teasingly with a laugh before making good on Yang’s suggestion, pressing their lips together with a smile, both of them giggling like they were getting away with some crime, some secret, and no one was ever going to call them out on it. Yang laughed, kept kissing Blake. She’d never done hard drugs but she was confident they had nothing on Blake; she was starting to forget the rest of the world existed, starting to forget that there were people other than Blake, that there were times before she got to hold her in her arms. 

Wholly intoxicated, Yang drew Blake’s lower lip in, ran her teeth over it just slightly, just to see if she could get away with it, and quickly realized that she had more than gotten away with it when Blake balled up her shirt in her fists and pulled Yang closer to her. They both laughed against each other, grinned as Blake mirrored Yang’s actions and that’s when Yang mistakenly let slip a moan that was one hundred percent pornographic as Blake bit down into her lip. 

She was sure she’d crossed a line, breached a wall guarding a castle that she didn’t have permission to enter yet. Yang pulled away, suddenly frightened that she’d gone too far. This was a new thing. A new thing she was desperate to not lose. 

“Sorry, I uh-“

Blake looked back at her with disappointment and something else in her eyes that Yang hadn’t seen before. Before she knew it, Blake had shoved her over violently into the couch, forcefully enough that she might have bounced off if Blake hadn’t closed the distance with her body, weighed her down with her form. She kissed her again, more forcefully, more desperately, like she’d die if she didn’t, like she was starving in the wilderness. Yang had no choice but to gladly reciprocate and it wasn’t long before her hands had somehow wound up underneath Blake’s shirt, running over her skin, making a map of her body’s topography, making special care to feel the way Blake’s back arched like a domed cathedral when she welcomed Yang’s tongue, let her deepen the kiss in a way that neither of them had remotely been prepared for. 

Blake was moaning, sighing, surrendering as Yang flipped her over. They didn’t break contact even for a second, their kissing only ceasing when one of them was convinced they’d suffocate otherwise; not that Yang wouldn’t have minded dying in such a way. She leaned down and planted a rough kiss on Blake’s neck, pulling back with a scrape of her teeth, reveling in the way Blake moved under her, started grinding against the thigh in between her legs. 

And then Yang stopped. She quickly removed herself from Blake, caught her breath in nervous gulps. 

“Y-Yang? What’s wrong?” Blake asked, as out of breath as her counterpart. 

“Nothing. Seriously nothing.” Yang explained, trying to get the lower half of her body to calm the fuck down. “That was-“

“Great? Amazing? Sexy?” Yang choked on a laugh as Blake repeated her words from earlier.

“Yes. Seriously all of those things.” 

Blake looked at her eagerly as she awaited an explanation. Her human ears were bright red, eyes hazy, and Yang was confident she looked just as explicitly disheveled. She took a deep breath. 

“I- Blake this is really new.” Yang began, and she could feel the disappointment radiating off of Blake. “Look, my caveman brain wants nothing more than to just fuck your brains out right now.”

Blake coughed heavily and turned about three shades of red darker. Yang tried and failed to keep a laugh from sputtering out of her mouth; Blake was just too damn cute. She took the faunus’s hands gently and forced herself not to think about what else they could be doing right now.

“It’s new. We don’t even know what it is- I just don’t want to rush it. I don’t want you to regret this.”

She braced herself for any number of retorts, but Blake just squeezed her hands gently, brought them up and planted a chaste kiss on the back. 

“I get it. H-honestly.” Blake replied, as genuine as sterling silver. “‘I uh. I appreciate it, Yang.” 

“Oh god you’re gonna have to stop saying my name like that or I’m gonna have to live in a cold shower.” Yang smiled, exhaled relief. She had been so worried Blake wouldn’t understand her, wouldn’t understand that she did want her, desperately. 

“‘Well, maybe I’ll get to join you in there sometime.” Blake winked at her and Yang was legally dead for three seconds. 

“Ms. Belladonna, are you trying to murder your bodyguard?” 

“No. Just flirt with her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaaaaaaaa hi  
> Been trying to be more active on tumblr lately! Also I started playing amity arena again and you should totally message me if we played against each other! I am. Not particularly good at it but I will eat my hat if I stop before I get that bumblebee card


	9. Chapter 9

Blake _really_ liked having Yang for a girlfriend. They hadn’t put a name on it but there was no other way to describe it. Names and labels weren't the kind of thing that did blind dumb love justice and Blake's life had been so topsy turvy, so full of heartbreak and violence that all she wanted was to just enjoy this fully. It was euphoric feeling safe, feeling loved. 

Everything was the same but entirely different, shaded with a different color, viewed through a different lense. Small touches and glances felt more loaded with emotion, even though it occurred to her now that they had been there for a while. Blake was making an omelet for them to share one morning (she'd been trying to get up earlier than Yang, start breakfast before her like it was a competition) when Yang appeared behind her, held her in her arms and planted a sweet kiss on her collarbone. She leaned back into her touch, feeling safe and content in her girlfriend’s arms. 

“Ugh, you're so warm. How do you even stand it?” Blake says with a laugh, giving the omelet a skilled flip (several unfortunate omelets had met their end on the floor before she'd finally gotten the skill down). She was certain her tone didn’t have even the _semblance_ of bite to it anymore.

“Mm. You'll love it once it starts snowing.” Yang nuzzled against her shoulder like a cat. 

Once it starts snowing huh? Blake mused to herself happily. Summer was ending, but winter was a few months out still. She loved the thought of still being with Yang through then and her mind drifted off into what _could_ be’s. Maybe they could actually get their own place after this, _actually_ move in together; she could meet her parents, God she hoped her dad would like her-

“Whatcha thinking about?” Yang let go, leaned on the counter trying to catch Blake's gaze, get lost in her eyes. 

“Daydreaming.” Blake thought she wanted be lost in Yang's. The honeymoon period was just as good as people said it was, though she didn't remember it ever being so pleasant with Adam. Of course, Adam had taken everything to eleven so fast, and if Blake couldn't keep up it was _her_ fault, never his. Everything was her fault. But not with Yang; there as room to breath now, space to make mistakes, fall down and get back up. Or at least it felt that way.

“Oh, am I involved?” Yang's tone was obviously flirtatious. 

“No.” Blake teased with a wicked grin. 

“You're a shit liar.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” 

“I've got a few ideas.” Yang replied, coiling her arms around Blake's waist. She turned her so that they were facing each other and brought their lips together. Kissing Yang was quickly becoming one of Blake's favorite pastimes; it was easy, always playful, always gentle (unless one of them got a little feisty), and always so wanted. There had been very few occasions when they didn't want to kiss (“Yang your morning breath is terrible”, “Blake you just ate a tuna roll”), but there was never any anger or dislike behind it; it was almost startling how natural it all felt. 

Simple. That's what it was. Simple and as far as Blake knew, perfect. 

“Mm,” Yang broke their kiss. “That omelet's starting to burn.”

“Wh- and whose fault is that?!” Blake giggled, salvaging their breakfast. It was only a _little_ singged. Perfectly edible still. They sat together at the table, steaming cups of tea and coffee in hand, talking about whatever came to mind in a nice easy rhythm, a natural cadence. She'd found Yang overwhelming when they had first met; she was too bright, too sunny, but now Blake couldn't imagine living without that warmth. She hoped Yang felt the same way. 

“Ahhh, what should we do today?” 

“Anything sounds good.” As long as I’m with you. Blake didn’t say that part. That was maybe a bit too cheesy. 

“In that case…” Yang hummed, tapping her chin with her finger, clearly putting a lot of thought into the subject. It was so endearing Blake thought her smile would grow too big for her face. 

“Let’s go get my tongue pierced.” Blake said flatly. Yang coughed on air. 

“E-excuse me?!” Yang stammered, a bright red flood overtaking her cheeks. “Wait, a-are you serious?”

“No. But that reaction was totally worth it.” Blake couldn’t help but adopt a smug grin. Yang took a deep breath (some sort of relief, maybe disappointment) and rubbed her mass of hair around. The faunus sneakily made a mental note to absolutely get her tongue pierced in the future if she and Yang were still together. 

“Belladonna, you’re gonna be the death of me!” She smiled and kicked Blake underneath the table. 

“Dropping the ‘Ms.’ now? Not very professional Yang.” 

“I think you threw professionalism out the window yourself _Belladonna._ ” Yang winked salaciously at her and Blake steamed like a kettle. She thought back to how she’d basically just rugby tackled Yang the other day. In all honesty, she was both thankful and mad they didn’t do anything that night; she appreciated Yang’s candor, her sincerity and her desire to make sure that Blake was comfortable.

Now that her initial burst of uh… energy had been denied, she was absolutely terrified of their next encounter. It was a hold over from her time with Adam, she was certain. She knew very well that Yang hadn’t stopped things because of her, she stopped it out of a genuine want to take things slow. But it was hard to convince herself otherwise. 

“Can we just… walk around town for a while?” Blake requested and realized she was doing that thing with her hair; that thing she started doing when she was embarrassed, when she felt her knees weak under Yang's affectionate gaze. 

And Yang seemed to recognize this and just squeezed her hand gently across the table. 

“Sounds like a walk in the park.”

“I- was that supposed to be a joke.”

“Yes but you're not laughing so clearly you didn't get it- Allow me to explain. You see Blake- ow!” She kicked her violently underneath the table before they both devolved into their own personal giggle fits and an epic battle of playful kicks at each other. 

\-----

“God, You’re like an old woman.”

“Because I like feeding ducks in the park? I also enjoy yelling at children.”

Blake rolled her eyes as she watched Yang toss some cracked grains at the waterfowl, who had basically accepted Yang as their personal goddess and savior. 

“C’mon, try it!” Yang grinned and held out a pile of duck snacks for Blake. 

“I dunno. That goose is getting dangerously close.” Blake was eyeing the bird as it approached the two; it looked like it had a wicked gleam in its eyes. They’d opted to relax in the park, plop down next to each other on the grass near the water. They weren’t the only two there by any means; families with kids, groups of friends, and couples all dotted the landscape around the lake. Blake secretly wondered if the group fishing nearby them would let her take home anything they caught. 

“‘it’s just a goose Blake.” Yang laughed, thoroughly amused by Blake’s reaction. “You think a goose can take me?”

“They have _teeth_.” Blake shivered. “They bite!”

“So do I.” Yang smiled a toothy grin as if to prove her point. Blake didn’t ask her to elaborate. Her ears had already turned red enough as it was. 

Yang actually looked embarrassed too. She scattered the rest of the feed across the ground and triggered a feeding frenzy. Some kids nearby thought it was hysterical, which really, it was. Blake could understand why Yang enjoyed it as much as she did. 

“Sorry, was that too much?” Yang asked awkwardly as she scratched the back of her neck.

“Well, there _are_ children present.” Blake shrugged and took Yang’s hand into her own. “But…”

Feeling rather emboldened, she leaned over and captured Yang’s lips, the two giggling like school girls as they kissed chastely in the park.

Yang pressed their foreheads together gently and smiled. 

“Don’t move babe. That goose is right behind you.”

“‘I swear to god if you’re joking-“

“What? I would never-“ 

Blake flipped around to catch Yang’s lie. 

“You jerk!” She playfully shoved Yang over into the grass as though it would silence the blond’s cackling. They rough housed together for a few minutes before winding up in each other’s arms. Blake was pretty sure she heard an elderly couple walk by and say ‘oh goodness they remind me of when we were younger’. It was embarrassing, but it did give her a weird sense of pride. 

“Dinner and a Movie? Let’s stop by the store, I’ll cook something special.” Yang dotted the sentence with a kiss on Blake’s cheek. 

“I dunno. I’m still pretty mad about the whole goose thing.” Blake flicked her girlfriend on the forehead. 

“I could catch it. We could eat _it_ for dinner. That’s far from a _fowl_ idea-“

“Dear god-“ Blake ran her hands over her face while Yang simply continued to laugh wickedly. They’d gotten up hand in hand and had taken off, so absorbed in each other that they hadn’t noticed a man in a grey hoodie watching them walk away. 

\-----

Dinner was perfect because of _course_ it was. Yang got real fancy when she wanted to. She’d made seared ahi tuna steaks served on a bed of fresh greens served with a side of lemon orzo (Blake didn’t even know what the hell orzo was, but she knew she liked it now). Her girlfriend had even picked out wine for her (Yang just had a super light beer herself; couldn’t be buzzed on the job she’d said), a dry red that went down smoothly and warmed her chest. 

Blake leaned back in her chair and let out one of the most content sighs she’d ever indulged in. “Why aren’t you a personal chef again?”

“‘Well, I basically am for you, so what’s the problem?” Yang got up from her chair and knelt down by Blake, grasped her hand in her own and kissed the back. 

“Do you _ever_ stop flirting?” 

Yang smirked, confident as always and captured Blake’s other hand, and then her lips. Blake leaned in, trying to fight a smile, trying to focus as she let Yang take her time, let her in. She moved with her to the couch in her arms, bold, carefree; the blinds were already closed after all, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

She could tell quickly where Yang was going with this and boy did her body react as such. Heat started to rise from her neck up and her core burned with a freshly lit flame. Yang gently laid her down on the couch, one hand tracing the line of her cheek and the other resting on her thigh. 

“You're really beautiful, you know that right?”

“You don't need to flirt for permission Yang.” Blake chuckled, cheeks hot and red. She caught Yang's eyes saw the sincerely bleeding out of them, pooling in her chest getting bigger with every breath she took. 

“I'm not just flirting Blake. I really mean it.” She was surprised to Yang looking so embarrassed and vulnerable; any semblance of a bulwark has been brought down. “You're… really amazing. And I know like, realistically we haven't known each other long but-”

“I kinda feel like I've known you forever.”   
Blake finished her sentence for her. Yang just nodded in response with all the understanding and wisdom of a sage. 

“Yeah.” She leaned down and kissed Blake, and drew her bottom lip into her mouth with a gentle pull of her teeth, a beckoning call. Blake wrapped around her partner, moved her hands underneath Yang's shirt in order to get closer to her, to trace the muscles of her back and memorize the way it felt under her touch. 

Yang smiled and let Blake take all the time she wanted or needed, indulged in the way her tongue pleaded for entrance and the feeling of satisfaction afterwards. Yang had her hand on Blake's hip, was playing with the loops of her pants-

Blake was the one who stopped this time. 

“I- I feel new to this.” Blake admitted. There was something she wanted to Yang; someone she wanted to tell Yang about. She felt she couldn't go forward till she got the shackles that weighed her down off her feet. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You know I’d never judge you Blake.” Yang was so sweet, so gentle; she’d backed off a bit in order to give Blake some space, no longer straddling the girl, but still ran her thumb over her hand gently. Her understanding was greater than any ocean, and Blake knew she was telling the truth, but the weight of his touch felt heavy on her heart. 

“You know…” she began, leaning fully into Yang’s side. It presented her with a shelter, somewhere to be safe. Home. She felt invulnerable next to her. “I’d been in love once before.”

Yang just gave her an understanding look, like it wasn’t a big deal, like Blake could have done anything in her past and Yang would have forgiven her. She'd been assigned a bodyguard, but she'd gotten far, far more out of it. 

“His name was Adam.” Blake said, unable to hold the story in any longer. Yang had a right to know; needed to know. She tried to keep her breath steady and easy, in order to keep from falling into the memory headfirst. 

“Why are you telling me?” Yang asked, sensing that something was clearly wrong. She rubbed Blake's shoulders with the feather touch she'd gotten so accustomed to. “It’s fine, you just seem…”

“He… I thought I was _so_ in love with him.” Blake steeled her nerves, tried to stop shaking. “And he knew that. And he took advantage of it.”

“Blake,” Yang held her closer, tightened her arms around her. She hadn't felt so vulnerable and fragile in a long time. But it was okay if Yang was there.

“I got convinced everything was all my fault. Always. If I didn't do what he wanted it's because I 'didn't really love him’, or 'I was being selfish.’ He just… controlled everything. When I told him I didn't agree with him when we'd be at protests, or vandalizing something or...”

“Fucking hell,” Yang breathed as Blake told her story. “Babe, you didn't deserve that. You know that right? People like that… They're the worst of the worst.”

“I don't know.” Blake shivered. “I told myself he was right for so long before I couldn't take it anymore, he- he started to get violent and-”

Yang pulled her in even closer, pressed her head into the crook of her neck. She soothed her as best she could, stroked her hair and whispered in her ear that everything would be alright. Blake balled up Yang's shirt in her hands, held on tightly as she cried. She reminded herself that it was ok to vulnerable with this incredible person she had met. 

“He's not here anymore.” Yang cooed and Blake felt her tears rolling freely. “Is… that what your nightmares were about?”

Blake whimpered. She was raw, and her heart hurt with every pump. “Sometimes. I feel like he broke me, you deserve better-”

“Hey, don't talk like that.” Yang moved so that they were looking each other in the eye. “You are _not_ broken.” 

Yang smiled, wiped away some of Blake's tears with her finger. “Besides, I'm pretty sure I do deserve you. I'm pretty amazing, remember?”

It got a chuckle out of Blake. She never failed to get her to smile. 

“And you are too.” Yang continued. “Promise me you won't forget that?”

“I'll try. You're too good for me.”

“I'm too good for everyone but you Blake. I'm not going anywhere, ok?”

Blake pressed her forehead against Yang's. They stayed together, quiet, enjoying how they puzzled together in each other's arms. This is what peace really is, Blake thought to herself. This is what love is supposed to feel like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iM REALLY SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER AAaaa  
> April has just been properly bonkers. Two jobs, moving soon, all sorts of craziness. We're near the end tho! About three more chapters coming your way- update coming next Thursday (coincidentally my birthday I'm gonna eat till I explode 
> 
> As always like... Seriously thank you for all the great comments and kind words. I'm real happy y'all are enjoying this!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYO THIS CHAPTER ISNT SAFE FOR WORK OK BYE

Blake woke up in Yang's arms, to a pair of amethyst eyes staring lovingly at her with an easy, lazy smile. 

“God,” Blake chuckled and blushed, nuzzling her head against Yang's chest. “How long have you been staring?”

“Mm, not too long.” Yang hummed. “But if it's you I could probably go all day. I've got a lot of _stamina_ when it comes to you.”

Blake felt an electric surge in her spine, shocking away any tiredness, blushing furiously as she started to playfully shove Yang out of the bed. 

“Yang it is _way_ too early for giving me a heart attack.” Blake groaned with a hand on her chest. It was doing little to stop the pounding in her chest. Yang smirked and shrugged, popped something loudly in her back before walking over to the bathroom. It was gross when anyone else did such a thing; charming when Yang did it. 

“I'm gonna take a quick shower. Come get me if anything's up.” 

“Mm.” Blake answered, hoping that it wasn't too obvious that she was staring at Yang's ass as she left. There had to be a law _somewhere_ against having a girlfriend that beautiful. She laid back down in the bed, enjoying the lingering warmth left behind from Yang. How she ever slept without it before was beyond her. She was hyper aware of every sound coming from the bathroom; the cabinet, the sink, the shower coming to life. Yang was humming in the shower, the same tune she often heard from her. 

Her brain decided to tease her by repeating Yang's flirty words from earlier over and over again in her head. She thought about grabbing a book, or making breakfast, thought about trying to think about literally anything else because her heart was going to explode and her pajamas were starting to feel awfully tight. 

She knew the bathroom door wasn't locked and walked in. 

“Blake? You scared the shit out of me, you jerk. You uh… need something?” Yang laughed, her form hidden from behind the shower curtain. Blake swallowed and approached the fabric tentatively, knowing exactly who was behind it and exactly how much she wanted her. 

“You… could say that.” She said it with a smoothness she wasn't sure she was capable of. Before she knew it she'd tossed her clothes on top of Yang's, already discarded on the top of the toilet seat. She shivered slightly, goosebumps rising on her now naked from more from nerves than cold. 

“Do you need me to get out-” Yang peeked her head out of the shower and Blake decided that second that her crazy idea was completely worth it and perfect when she saw Yang's jaw dropped expression. 

“ _Belladonna._ ” Yang growled, low and lustfully, just in the way Blake had wanted. Score one. “I _do_ believe you're trying to seduce me.” 

“Try?” Blake chuckled, finding a newfound confidence in her chest. There was something about the way Yang looked at her, the reverence in her gaze, the awe that emboldened her. To be wanted by someone like her; now that was an ego booster. “I think I _have._ ” 

“Much as I like the show, you look cold just standing there.” Yang licked her lips purposefully. “There's room for two in here.” 

Blake blushed and hoped her embarrassment was more endearing than actually embarrassing. She stepped into the shower, water pelting against her as she took in all of Yang's form with her eyes. 

“You're so beautiful.” Blake whispered. She swore she saw Yang blush through the steam, even though it was just _true_ ; she was muscular, and Blake always knew that, but to see it this close, this free was something entirely new. Looking at her as the water ran down her body, her back, her breasts, thighs- Blake was starting to feel convinced that Yang belonged in a museum, not a one bedroom apartment. 

“Likewise.” 

Yang moved in first, hands on Blake's back and ass as she pulled her close and kissed her, unchaste and desperate. 

She grabbed onto Yang, the only thing keeping her upright as her legs shook, one of her girlfriend's hands sliding between her thighs, finding her almost shamefully aroused. 

"Damn Blake, that bad already?” Yang laughed, biting gently at Blake's neck. She was rougher the second time after getting the sound she'd wanted out of Blake. 

"Look,” Blake said through clenched teeth, on a sharp intake of air as Yang started to stroke her _just_ so, “I'm pretty sure the other 'almost’ times counted for more than enough foreplay.” 

“Yeah, you're right.” Yang replied before silencing both of them with a kiss, long and purposeful, using her tongue in just the way Blake had come to like. She pulled away, started planting kisses, making a trail down Blake's chest and stomach, down dangerously close towards her thighs. Blake's body just slunk down in tandem, before she was finally on her back, hot steam from the shower rising around them both. Yang smiled at her, caught her gaze, planted a kiss on the inside of Blake's thigh before sliding her tongue up against her. 

“Fuck, Yang-” She really didn't have words to describe it. Maybe desperate breathy moans were a better form of communication. The sight of Yang's head between her thighs, knowing what she's doing, feeling what she's doing had her convinced that there was no drug that would feel as good as this. Her tongue and fingers worked in tandem, an ensemble well practiced and rehearsed. Yang's tongue’s inside her all while she worked on her clit, dancing circles around it with her thumb, feathering close, teasing, almost borderline cruel how _close_ she was coming- 

Yang chuckled, pulled back to a disappointed moan from Blake before silencing her with her mouth and Blake got to taste herself, taste the way Yang had turned her into a mess. 

“God, Yang _please_ -” 

“Yeah?” Yang teased, sliding two fingers against Blake, against her wetness. “Pretty please what?” 

“Oh you _jerk_.” She laughed, quarter humor, quarter arousal, half love. 

“Say no more.” Yang said smugly, wearing a toothy grin before returning down, taking broad, long strokes against Blake's clit with her tongue. It was all the faunus could do not to self destruct right there. She couldn't hold on much longer; she couldn't take it. It was pleasure on an atomic level, having the woman she loved so dearly making her cum. 

She sighed, really sighed when she finally came, just then becoming aware of the hand she'd buried into Yang's hair. 

"Hey, don't pull out my hair,” Yang joked, stroking the inside of Blake's thighs as she finished. “It's my best feature.” 

“How was I _not_ supposed to?” Blake laughed along with Yang, who brushed soaked strands of hair off her face, wet her sweat and the shower. She did likewise, feeling like she was going to melt right into the shower, or more likely into Yang's arms. She caught her lips, moaned at the taste still on Yang's lips, her taste, and bit down roughly on her lower lip. It was red when Yang finally pulled away with a _very_ pleased looking smirk. 

“For the record,” Yang said breathlessly, “you can absolutely pull on my hair.” 

Blake laughed, felt nothing but love in heart.  
“Your turn.” 

“Oh nooo, what are you gonna do to me?” Yang whispers salaciously. Blake gives her a gentle shove and Yang slides back easily in the wet tub, the shower still pelting them both with hot water, steam rising to a fever pitch. 

“I’ve got a few ideas.” Blake smirked. 

She brought a hand to Yang's chest, cradled her breasts in her palm. She sighed against Blake's touch and moaned out when she started massaging her nipples, before moving down with her mouth. 

“Blake,” Yang said with a modicum of desperation and a thrust of the hips. 

"I'm not a mind reader Yang.” Blake teased, moving her leg in between Yang's thighs while still working on her breasts, the latter of whom started gladly grinding against it, eager for the pressure. 

"Look,” Yang grit her teeth, “we both know that mouth could be doing so many different things.” 

Blake agreed. She was done teasing Yang; for now at least and planted kisses down her chest, down her stomach, her and, before landing right at the spot Yang was craving it worst. 

She placed a kiss right on Yang's clit and her heart became butterflies at Yang's sigh. It was all the prompting she needed. She went to work, sucking, stroking, the same way Yang had done earlier, following the trail of her moans and the arc of her hips to figure out what made her crack the best. 

It was Yang who had a hand in someone's hair this time; two hands in fact, hips raised forcefully against Blake's mouth as she kept working, kept lavishing herself in the way Yang tasted, the way she started begging. It wasn't long after that Yang came, abdomen tense and legs shaking against the sides of her head. 

She lifted her head up, found Yang's lips there immediately, and kissed her back. 

“Now see, this is the great thing about shower sex,” Yang said, ever so proudly, and Blake automatically rolled her eyes “you can get cleaned up right on the spot. And it'll probably lead to more sex.” 

“You're insatiable.” It was more a compliment than a reprimand. 

“When it comes to you Blake,” Yang kissed her, soft as silk, “absolutely.” 

They got cleaned up, half wrapped up in each other's arms, whispering confessions and statements of beauty, warmer with each other than any stupid shower could ever get. 

_\-----_

"Can I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot, Blake.” She had her head nuzzled in the crook of Blake's neck, both of them still with damp hair, wearing the laziest clothes they possibly could, and just enjoying the after, with Blake making lunch and Yang advising in the event of anything too culinarily exciting. 

“Are we weird?” Blake wasn't sure how else to phrase the question. Yang seemed to find it funny. 

"Weird how?” She laughed and rubbed against Blake's neck and she was starting to think Yang was more like a cat than she was. 

“Well, we haven't known each other long.” Blake began, feeling nervous. “Doesn't this seem… odd? And we're human and faunus too and that’s- I mean I-” 

_I think I'm in love with you._ “I really like you.” 

Yang hummed and let her go, leaning against the counter and tapping her fingers. She missed her cradled against her back almost immediately. 

“I dunno. I guess you're right.” Only for a moment did Yang feel distant. Blake hoped it wasn't because of her comment about their species; she hadn't meant anything cruel by it, just an observation. A fact. 

“I think maybe,” The distance was gone when Yang smiled again. “Some things kinda… transcend that stuff. Hopefully that doesn't sound too nerdy.” 

Blake blushed, but she agreed. _That_ was what was embarrassing about it; it felt so natural it was the stuff other people got jealous of. The stuff people wrote books about, the reason poetry existed, the reason anyone existed- 

“I think you're right.” Blake couldn't help but smile, more naturally than night fading into day. She looked at Yang as was convinced yet again that she was in love with her. 

“See something you like?” Yang giggled as Blake continued to stare. Blake's heart soared as she watched a blush form on Yang's face. Her girlfriend gave her a playful shove before going over to the window to look down on the streets. 

"Kind of a quiet day today.” She commented. Blake agreed; they were close to the highway, but the sound that Sunday was minimal. Nice and quiet. Just how Blake liked it. 

“Who the-” Blake was listening carefully of course, and Yang didn't usually speak in that tone. She became concerned when she heard Yang close the blinds rapidly; far earlier than they normally would. There was an energy about her, like she'd just gotten a call about an emergency. She quickly stopped cooking and ran over to her. 

“Yang? What is it? Talk to me, please?” She wanted to tug on Yang’s sleeve, bring her body near her, but she could tell her bodyguard was on full alert. 

“Someone was watching the window.” Yang breathed, every word serious and heavy, the weight of a hunt behind it. 

"What?” Blake felt panic shoot through her veins. Who could it have been? Was it an assassin? There was no way. They had been so safe for weeks and weeks. 

It couldn't have been Adam, right? 

“Might have just been someone randomly staring.” Yang said quietly and moved methodically to her box of weapons and pulled out what looked like an assault rifle. She watched as Yang went through the motions carefully, pulling out a clip and loading it with the refined gestures of an expert, keeping her composure in check. Blake swallowed as she clicked the safety off. “But we’re gonna play it safe. We’re gonna sit over there, away from the window.” 

Yang had the rifle in her hands and gestured to a spot in the kitchen with the barrel. Blake wordlessly complied, sat down in the sheltered corner as Yang turned the TV on, left it quiet enough that she’d be able to hear someone approaching. 

Yang had a red tint to her eyes, and Blake could only watch as they darted around, not missing a single detail, focusing particularly on all the entrances. Blake felt terrified, even with Yang there, heavily armed and ready to retaliate and defend Blake with her life. 

“What did they look like?” Blake whispered, unable to stay in silence. 

“Hard to say. Probably male judging by the build and height, but he had a hoodie on. Couldn't see his face.” Yang responds succinctly and precisely. 

She knew very well that Yang, trained and ready with a rifle was the safest she could be, but all she wanted was for her to hold her, embrace her until this alarm was all over. She wanted to go back to living the life they'd started to build for each other. 

“Just keep breathing.” Yang smiled at her, and took a long, deep breath herself, encouraging Blake to follow suite. She gladly did so, and the two kept breathing together nice and slowly. It helped more than she expected; her nerves were definitely more subdued, though the fear still remained. 

“We'll look into moving locations. It might be nothing but…” Yang sighs, though her alert eyes remained trained and focused. 

“I understand.” Blake replied, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. She'd gotten used to their staged living quarters. 

Yang looked at her, drew her alert eyes away for a moment. “I'm sorry, Blake.” 

She shook her head, gave Yang and understanding look. “ I get it. It's ok. I trust you.” 

Yang smiled, an honest, perfect smile and went back to her watchful work. Blake could tell she seemed more at ease. 

_\-----_

The rest of the day was tense and passed by agonizingly slow, with each girl looking over their shoulder constantly for unknown threats. After waiting for thirty minutes, Blake in the corner, Yang with her rifle out, Yang told her to go ahead and get anything she wanted packed back up; they'd switch apartments the next day. 

“Can it be set up that quickly?” Blake asked, stuffing her wardrobe back into her suitcase, everything that would fit. 

“Yeah. Well, technically it's somewhere already set up; this apartment my sister's girlfriend owns.” Yang replied, packing her own things into a large tote bag. “It might be temporary while we get something figured out. It's outside of Vale though; we'll be leaving the city.” 

Blake decided not to press the subject; she trusted Yang after all, even though she wanted to know every secret and every detail of the location. 

It hit her that she didn't _want_ to leave this place, this one bedroom apartment that had so suddenly become her home. She didn't want to leave the kitchen where Yang taught her to cook, or the bed they both rested in each night, safe in each other's arms. 

They were all ready to leave by the evening, somehow. Yang said most of the things didn't need removing or packing, and could just be left there; someone would take care of it later.  
They would spend one more night there. Blake was used to cuddling Yang in her sleep at this point, but she held onto her with a certain dire need that night, even though nothing happened. There were no knocks on the door, no loud noises at the window; just the two of them breathing, restless. Yang's weapons were close by. 

Several times in the night Yang would get up and scan the apartment, look for any signs of a break in, or an attempt to. Those moments without Yang made Blake feel the most fearful, really. But Yang always returned, always came back to her and rested her gun on the cabinet, both of them painfully aware of its presence. 

_\-----_

“What about Ilia?” Blake asked, a reasonable question. It was so early it could barely be considered morning; Yang wanted to leave as soon as possible. She was leaving most of her stuff behind, save for her guns of course. She easily lifted the heavy black case with one arm and gave Blake a sympathetic look. 

“Oh, uh.” Yang stammered, answer unclear. “Sorry, I haven't told her yet.” 

“Huh? We can't just leave without her knowing. She's a part of this too.” 

Yang bit her lip, eyes darting low. Blake didn't know about the strange conversation she'd had with Ilia before. It just never came up; not in their alone time and not when they were with Blake's friend. 

“We’ll stop for coffee somewhere, ok?I'll tell Ilia to meet us there.” Yang answered begrudgingly. If she had it her way they'd already be at the police station waiting for escort. But she cared too much about Blake to force her to go without seeing her friend again. Besides, Blake could probably use some tea to calm her nerves. Yang felt horrible seeing her so shaken up, and felt even worse knowing there was little she could do outside of her current actions. 

“If she meets us there, she does; otherwise we go ahead and leave, ok? Work it out later.” 

"That's fine.” Blake nodded, tightening her grip on her belongings. 

Yang fired off a quick message to Ilia, not even sure if the girl would be awake at all right now. The ship would be open by the time they arrived though; Yang was planning on taking them by foot. She triple checked her pistol and tucked it away, hidden in her pants and under her shirt. 

They left the apartment without a word shared between them, though both girls took one last longing look at it before taking off. The streets were mostly empty at such an hour, even in a large city like Vale. 

The only other person in the coffee shop when they got there was some grumpy old regular reading the newspaper. The familiar baristas greeted them and got their orders ready; Yang had to admit she'd miss them too. She passed Blake her tea when Ilia came in looking distressed, wrapping Blake in a huge hug. Blake glady reciprocated, happy to be able to see her friend again. 

“I came as soon as I could.” Ilia said, out of breath as she put her bag down. “Shit, are you guys ok?” 

“We're fine.” Yang answered sharply for Blake, eyeing Ilia catiously. “But we aren't staying long. Fifteen minutes, tops.” 

Ilia nodded, her eyes a somber blue. 

“I don't know exactly what's going to happen, but I'm glad I could check in with you again.” 

Blake said happily, squeezing her friend's hand. Yang didn't pay too much attention as the two girls talked; she was too busy looking around the shop, at every window, every entrance. Her nerves were running high; no, that was understatement, really. She hadn't felt so nervous and anxious since her time in the military. 

“Hey, Yang?” Blake tugged her shirt, grabbing her attention. “You ok? You seem distant.” 

Leave it to Blake to realize her turmoil. Her observance was one of the many things Yang loved about her. Love? Where had that come from. She sighed and smiled at Blake as she realized that was the truth. 

“I'm ok. Thanks, Blake.” 

Ilia gave them a look that was half concern and half frustration. Yang didn't miss it. 

“Ok.” Blake nodded with a smile. “I'm gonna run to the bathroom before we leave.” 

“Go for it.” Yang said, finishing off the last of her coffee. 

“Oh, I'll come too.” Ilia said quickly. “Sucks the last time I'll see you for a while is a bathroom huh?” 

They all laughed at the awkward joke and Yang watched carefully as Ilia and Blake walked into the restroom together, trying to tell her mind to shut the he up. It was just a bathroom break and Ilia wasn't a threat. A jealous friend maybe, but not a threat. Right? 

\----- 

“I was so worried about you Blake.” Ilia began, after checking something on her phone as Blake washed her hands. “Do you… really trust Yang to keep you safe?” 

Blake sighed, tried to get the shivers out of her body. “Honestly, yeah. I don't think I'd feel safer anywhere other than by her side.” 

She looked out the high window in the bathroom, tried to watch the sunrise through the foggy glass. 

“I know it might be a when, but we can trust Yang.” Blake added, definitely. 

“We can't _trust_ humans.” Blake saw Ilia move in the mirror all too late. 

“Mmph?!” Something wrapped around the front of her mouth, a cloth, sickly sweet smelling and wet. She felt like she was choking; she _was_ choking, couldn’t breathe. Every gulp of air was filled with ether, and despite her struggle, she couldn't get a good breath in, couldn't shout for help without breathing in more of the poison. She flailed against the grip of the person behind her. Her actions proved increasingly useless as her strength started to leave her, her vision started to blur, go dark. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” It was Ilia’s voice that came from behind her, and it suddenly clicked that it was Ilia holding the cloth to her mouth, Ilia pinning her arms behind her, Ilia _doing_ this to her. She wanted to scream, call out for Yang, but she could scarcely think. All she could do was think of Yang as she fell unconscious, hope and pray that she would save her. She had to. 

Illia opened the window in the bathroom, high on the wall, and snuck Blake out with the aid of a White Fang member lurking in the alley. It was difficult, but it worked, as Ilia knew it would. 

It had to work. Adam was waiting. 

\----- 

Yang was getting uneasy. Blake and Ilia had been gone way too long for a quick bathroom visit, and after the scare from the previous day she didn't want to take any chances. She was about to go check on them when she got a text on her phone, which was surprising to begin with, from Ilia's number: 

_‘Come outback, Yang. We have a lot to discuss.’_

She could feel her eyes go red, dangerous as embers as she peeled out of the booth with the ferocity and speed of a mother bear protecting its cubs. The staff tried to protest as she burst out of the employee exit, eyes darting around, searching, scouring every detail of the alleyway. She could hear the baristas scrambling inside, all of them confused and distressed. 

She spotted him standing there, looking awfully smug in an old ragged hoodie with spiked red hair and a pair of horns breaking out of his skull; not to mention the brutal scar over one of his eyes. Yang wasted no time and pulled out her 9mm, training it on him, pinpointing all the places she could shoot to disarm, incapacitate, kill. 

“You must be Adam.” She hissed. Her mind raced, wholly concerned with Blake and what had happened to her. 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, though it wasn’t clear if he was armed or not. Her veins went molten with anger, alight like a solar flare, and it was only her extensive training that kept her from gunning him down right then and there for what he’d done to Blake. There was no doubt in her mind that this was the abuser she had spoken of. 

“Really? Do we have to jump straight to the guns ‘Yin’? It's Yang, isn't it?” He laughed wickedly, acting like his words were funny. 

“Where’s Blake?” Yang didn’t have the time to entertain his psychotic tendencies; not if Blake was in danger. She took a step forward, gun trained squarely on Adam’s chest. Three well placed shots and he'd be down. 

“Well, if you shoot me you’ll never find out.” He shook his head. “She’s safe though. Neither of us would want anything to happen to her. In fact, she’s safer than she ever was with you, now that she’s with the people she belongs with.” 

His twisted, calm demeanor started to break and he took a step closer to Yang. “Especially since _I’m_ the one she really loves, despite all the delusional lies you’ve told her.” 

“You’re a manipulator. An abuser.” Yang didn’t mince her words. She spat them out like bullets. “The things you did to her-“ 

“The things _I_ did? She’s supposed to be loyal to _me_. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been making her break her promises you fucking slut.” 

He was trying to goad her. That much was clear. Yang steadied her breathing, kept it as rhythmic as possible. She wasn’t about to let him win, not with so much at stake. Certain memories boiled up in her mind; the people she belonged with. She'd heard that before. 

_Oh shit._

“Was Ilia working with you the whole time?” Yang demanded an answer to the question that had been boiling in her chest. Adam chuckled again. It sounded like the voice of the devil. 

"Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Adam pointed the question at someone behind him, and on cue, Ilia was there, holding Blake, a gag in her mouth and her hands bound. Ilia had a gun pointed into her chin. Her eyes were running through a spectrum of colors and Yang couldn't tell just _what_ emotion the faunus was feeling. Anger? Guilt? That wasn't important right now. 

“Blake!” Yang yelled, almost breaking into a run to her before she heard Ilia’s gun cock. Blake’s eyes _were_ fear; the normally golden color pale, her skin white and gleaming with sweat, tears were brimming at the lines of her eyes. She struggled against Ilia’s hold to no avail. 

"Yang,” Adam began, mentioning her name like a curse. “here’s what’s going to happen.” 

He walked over casually to Blake, before pulling a switchblade out of his pocket. The blade of the knife flipped out, looking sharp and dangerous, wicked intent all in a sharpened point. He had the tip pointed roughly against Blake’s side, digging into her abdomen. Yang bit down firmly on her lip and didn't take her eyes off Blake for a second. 

“You’re going to leave. And we’re going to take Blake. Then, you’re going to forget that this ever happened, and you’re going to forget that you _ever_ touched something that didn’t belong to you.” 

“Blake doesn’t _belong_ to anyone.” Yang hissed back. Her finger was vibrating against the trigger, every instinct telling her to _shoot_. But Blake was in danger. There was no way she could follow through. Not with that knife, not with him so close, with Blake wrestling the gag out of her mouth- 

“Yang no!” 

She didn't see it coming, not with her attention so wholly focused on Blake. A shotgun blast ripped through the air, impossibly loud and close. Yang was blasted onto her side against the cement from the force, her right side mangled and full of grapeshot. 

Adam walked over to her, the steps echoing through the alleyway, distant even as he drew closer. 

"Assuming you survive,” he began, after a rough kick in Yang's ribs. She could hear Blake scream before being silenced with the gag again. “Let this be a lesson. Come after us, and I'll make sure you really know what it's like to suffer.” 

She tried to look at Blake, but her vision started to blur and her mind was going blank from the pain. She could feel the blood oozing out of her, staining the cement, the life draining away like rain rushing down a manhole. Suddenly everything was thousands of miles away. 

She remembered hearing Ilia cry out in pain, Adam yelling, screaming at Blake to come back, to stop running. No gunfire filled the air, just the rapid footfalls of Adam's goons chasing after her. 

"Leave her. She won't get far.” Adam said it with a wicked confidence that Yang could hear even as her ears were filled with cotton and her side started going numb. At least Blake got away. She could get help, call the cops; her father would look after her where she had failed. 

It'd be fine, even if Yang was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS WAS LATE but I have a good excuse ya girl was in the hospital cries
> 
> I'm all ok n recovering now thank fucking god  
> I hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed but as a bonus my buddy gave me a prompt while I was totally strung out on medication in the hospital please enjoy it in its unedited entirety: 
> 
> Blake is on.tje.j hospital next to yangs bed, watching her snoozing away in the soft sheet of the bed. She's snoring, tthiugh not as loudly as normal; normally she sounds like a elephant with it's esophagus fl  
> They had been in the woods when the snake bitty Yang and it wasnnbad so the. Rushed to the hospital and got the csnom our
> 
> Theyve been assured that Yang would be ok, so Weiss dragged Ruby off to get cookies leaving Blake behind to watch Yang 
> 
> Her partner is starting to Tired, her eyes fluttering awake, meeting Blake's felizaedn gaze, smiling when she can he's yangs lavend eyes .
> 
> “Morning sunshine.” Yang says sleepys, tyign to stretch her ams out and almost knocking over the IV pole me🤣 to her
> 
> Blake rolls her eyes and steadies the pull Yang almost knocked out n she thinks she should be mad at her for letting herself get but like a big dumb dumb but Yangs happy grin is sooooooon good she can't do that 
> 
> That wouldn't be cin 
> 
> “So, why am.i in the hospital” Yang asks, eyes darting around the room. She's all too energetic for someone who got a face full of oh my.vos what are they called taijotu poison 
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, don't remember getting but by that huge Grimm you ran straight at “. 
> 
>  
> 
> “But.im not straight. 
> 
> And that did it, since the other two girflz Den gone Blake jumps on.tjd bed And just just just sticks her tongue in there


	11. Chapter 11

Yang was surprised to hear Ruby’s voice. Her little sis was studying abroad in Mistral with her girlfriend; she wasn’t supposed to be in Vale. It was full of relief, a breath held and choked on, finally being released.

“Yang, thank god!”

“Ruby-”

Before she could say anything else Ruby wraps her around in a gentle hug and sobs into her shoulder, openly weeping. Yang tried to return the hug (like she normally would, she's hugged her sister countless times), but her right arm didn’t come up with her left. She glanced down, took her eyes off Ruby for a moment, and saw her arm, all mangled and bloody, suspended with metal and wire in an eerie looking hospital contraption. There were bags of saline and painkillers attached to her other arm and monitors close bye, keeping track of her vitals.

The shock didn't set in right away. Time stopped for a moment, the seconds suspended and hung and each breath she took felt like a lifetime. Ruby seemed to notice and pulled off, fidgeting with her fingers, silver eyes darting around the room like a ball of electricity.

“... what is this?” Yang finally asked, brain working at half capacity as she tried and failed to move her arm again. There were weird screw like things in it, she noticed. It looked like something out of a horror film she'd watched with Blake.

Blake.

The second she thought of Blake it all came rushing back to her. Her memory broke open and the pain came flooding back, the sight of Blake being held captive, the man that had tormented her so long before her, threatening her with a knife, the goon that had snuck up on her and blasted her side with a shotgun, the fleeting vision of Blake managing to escape. Suddenly Yang felt the overwhelming urge to just throw up.

“Y-Yang? Um, I'm gonna go get a nurse…”

“H-huh?” She wasn't sure if she was actually there or not. It was like someone had stuffed wax in her ears as she watched Ruby leave, messaging someone furiously on her phone. One of the machines was beeping rapidly, incessantly, indicative of her now racing heartbeat. She knew she was in pain; her arm felt like it'd been dipped in molten lava and her side was burning, sharper than a knife running through her skin. It was hard to register when the doctor and nurse scrambled in with Ruby and Qrow, and was that her father ? They yelled something about increasing the dose, about sedating her, because she was trying to rip her arm free even though she wasn't consciously doing it. Through the pain all she could think about was Blake, where she was, if she was ok, if she was safe. The hospital staff injected something into her IV and her mind went hazy. Ruby grabbed her free hand and whispered soothing words to her, 'you're gonna be ok’, 'I'm here for you.’ She managed to think about how lucky she was to have Ruby before she passed out again.

\-----

Blake was glad she kept her old card on her all this time in secret, just in case, even though Yang always had her mysterious wad of cash with them. She'd never actually been in a proper gun store before; the lighting was dim and a weapon hung from every conceivable inch of space on the walls. The guy at the counter eyed her carefully, though he's had no reason to suspect her, aside from her slightly disheveled clothes. It was probably just part of the job.

“Hey,” she walked up to the counter as nonchalantly as possible. She felt like someone had put acid in her veins and her nerves were still screaming underneath every inch of skin. But she had to focus now. “Can I get that 9mm and a box of bullets?”

“Got an ID?” He asked, even though he was already reaching for the items in question. Blake handed him her fake; hopefully he wouldn't try to run it. Vale didn't have extremely strict gun laws, unlike Atlas, but she wasn't sure if she'd get away with this.

“Alright. Swipe whenever you're ready.” He glanced over the ID and handed it back before pushing the card reader towards Blake.

That was way too easy . She tried not to dry up her luck and left as soon as the payment was processed. She'd fired a gun before, once, at a range with her father, and several times with Adam. Blake was confident she'd be able to put a bullet between his eyes, make him pay for what he did to her, what he did to Yang.

She couldn't get the image of Yang broken, bleeding out on the ground, or how lifeless her eyes had looked. The second she'd felt Ilia's grip on her weaken she acted, used whatever self defense techniques she could remember and ran. There was nothing she could do for Yang. She was helpless. Useless. She'd double-backed around to the scene to see what had happened and found Yang getting loaded up into an ambulance, cops, including her uncle swarming everywhere. She should have turned herself over to them, gone with her to the hospital, stayed by her side. It's probably what Yang would have wanted.

But she froze. She had caused this. This was her fault, and even if she never saw Yang again, she would make sure Adam regretted ever coming into their lives.

She just needed to find him first.

\-----

Yang was barely listening as the doctor explained her situation. She'd lost a lot of blood, but Qrow had stepped up, gave her some of his; same blood type, luckily, ever elusive -O. Her side would need to be wrapped in bandages for a while, but they'd gotten all the bullets and shrapnel out. She'd live. But they weren’t sure her arm was salvageable. She thought they said that she had three surgeries scheduled. Amputation was on the table.

She politely thanked them, watched their white coats disappear as they left her alone with her family. No one was sure what to say. Even her ever energetic younger sister was at a loss for words. That was probably the most eerie part of the entire process.

“Hey, Yang,” It was Qrow who began first, crouched down next to Yang's bed. “If you don't wanna answer it's ok. But if you remember what happened…”

“You can't be serious Qrow.” Her dad chimed in angrily.

“I can't do my job if I don't know what happened Tai!”

“She needs rest Qrow!”

Ruby looked from her father to her uncle uncomfortably, before giving Yang the most sympathetic look she could muster.

“Where's Blake?” Yang finally asked. She wasn't paying too much attention to the men's squabble. She watched as Qrow bit his lip, watched as her father Taiyang held his hand to his face and rubbed his temples. Ruby looked just as confused as she felt.

"Well, her parents are still safe." Tai stalled. "I made sure to put the best people I knew on the job while I came to see you."

Yang stared at him blankly. That was great news, really, honestly, but she hadn't asked about Blake's parents. She'd asked about _Blake_.

“We're not sure.” Qrow finally said cautiously, ashamed. He didn't look Yang in the eye.

“What?” It was one word, but all of Yang's anger and fear was behind it. “That can't be right. She got away, she would have gotten help-” 

“I'm not lying to you, alright?” Qrow cut her off, sympathy in his eyes. “We don't know where she is. I've got an ATL out for her and we're gonna tear the city up to find her okay? I promise.”

Yang took a deep breath and held it, half hoping that it would choke her.

“Can I be alone for a while?” She managed to get out.

“Yang I don't know-” her father began, and even though she knew it came from a place of concern she shut him down.

“Ruby can stay if she wants to.” She was firm with her tone, making her desires very clear. Qrow and Taiyang shared a glance before leaving, sliding the door shut behind them. Yang just stared at her arm as she listened to the consistent beeping from the monitor; it was fucking annoying. Maybe she could get them to put it on mute or something.

“Uh, do you want me to get you anything?” Ruby asked sheepishly, stepping on eggshells as gracefully as possible. 

“Nah.” Yang said sharply, quickly. “Just couldn’t take dad and Qrow right now.”

Ruby nodded. Yang had always appreciated her understanding. “Well, I’m definitely here for you. Even if that means just uh, sitting in silence for a while.”

“Honestly,” Yang laughs, wiping the hint of a tear out of her eye. “Silence sounds… horrible.”

She couldn’t stop thinking about Blake. If she hadn’t gone to the police, then just where the hell was she? Unless it was already too late, and Adam had found her again-

“How’s uh… school going?” Yang decided that literally anything would be better than think about tragic what-ifs.

Ruby half forced a smile, but it was clearly genuine, beaming with pride. “Really well, honestly. I was worried about doing the accelerated program and all but your girl is on time to graduate!”

“I knew you could do it Ruby! What'd I tell you!”

She and Yang exchanged and awkward left handed fist bump.

“Now, more importantly,” Yang did her best to stay cheerful, to tease her sister, to ignore her arm slung up next to her. “How’s your girlfriend? ”

“Ugh! Yang!” Ruby turned red like an apple and looked away with a huff, only to be met with a childish cackle from Yang. There had been so much excellent teasing when Ruby had finally started dating, especially when Yang learned exactly who the lucky girl in question was. The Weiss Schnee, famous heiress extraordinaire to the Schnee petroleum company. The business in question had more than a few questionable labor practices, but Ruby had assured Yang that Weiss wasn’t like that, like the rest of her family. And Ruby really wasn’t the type to lie; Yang believed her wholeheartedly.

“S-she’sfinethankyouforasking!” Ruby spat the words out like machine gun bullets. Yang gave her a knowing smirk and ruffed her hair as best she could with her left hand. It was just her luck that she was a righty.

“Ooh, have you guys held hands yet?” Yang wiggled her brows.

“Yang! Ugh, I can't tell you anything.” Ruby puffed her cheeks and huffed like a grumpy chinchilla. 

“She’s uh, actually here if you want to see her.” Ruby said with a flush, wiggling about in her seat like an embarrassed grade schooler. Yang could barely resist trying to crush her with a bear hug; it was so damn adorable.

“Wait, you brought your girlfriend to come see me in the hospital?” Yang snorted. It was charming really, how sweet the two girls were. Ruby absolutely doted on Weiss, and it was actually pretty nice to know that she was willing to come to Vale with her sister. That wasn't something just anyone would do.

“More like, she insisted that she tag along?” Ruby shrugged awkwardly. “It’s hard to talk Weiss out of anything-”

“ Ahem. ” A cold, sharp voice coughed in the hallway.

“Ooh, geez! That’s her.” Ruby looked at Yang expectantly, for a yes or no on whether or not to let Weiss in.

“Fine.” Yang said with a sigh, finding herself unable to stop grinning as Ruby beamed at her. Her little sis hopped up and ran to the door, sliding it open for Weiss. A dignified young woman strode in, hair in a perfect ponytail, not a hair out of place. Her clothes were monochromatic and rather expensive looking. Go figure. She looked out of place next to Ruby, who was in a beat up old red hoodie and jeans, but the way they looked at each other betrayed their affection and sincerity.

“It's nice to meet you Yang. Though I wish it had been under better circumstances…” Weiss greeted her prim and proper, like she was meeting an executive. “I'm Weiss Schnee. I'm uh... dating your sister.”

“Weiss, it's just Yang, you don't gotta be so formal.” Ruby chuckled, slapping Weiss sharply on the back.

"Just Yang? Have you no respect for your elder sister anything more Ruby?" 

Weiss flushed and whispered something to Ruby that made the younger girl snort with laughter.

“Hm, I don't know if I approve Ruby…” Yang teased, wiggling her eyebrows at Ruby and Weiss. Ruby just laughed and Weiss turned even redder, ponytail flipping back and forth as she turned from Ruby to Yang, the two sisters snickering sinisterly.

“God you’re just as insufferable as Ruby is.” Weiss finally huffed when she realized what was going on. “You're _clearly_ sisters.”

“Yeah, but you still like me.” Ruby grinned and threw her arms around Weiss. Despite the exasperated groan coming from the heiress, it was clear to Yang how much the two girls liked each other. She just wished she'd been able to introduce Ruby to her partner as well.

“Ruby wasn't joking though…” Weiss began, having pried Ruby off her shoulders. “Have you heard anything new about your arm?”

Yang sighed and eyed her mess of an arm, all strung up still in its metal brace. “Well, they're gonna try to salvage it I guess.”

“It'll be okay , Yang.” Ruby was back at the side of the bed, holding Yang's left hand tightly, squeezing every few seconds. Yang did her best to smile back, did her best to not say something negative, to tell Ruby that sometimes bad things just happened. That things might not _be_ okay. But it was hard to say something as pessimistic as that to Ruby. 

“It's the best hospital in Vale.” Weiss nodded, though Yang could tell she wasn't as confident in her sister's claim. “If something can be done, it will be. And if not, then every doctor and nurse in here is going to wake up to a lawsuit-”

“Weiss,” Ruby cooed gently at a now fuming Weiss, “it's so sweet how you offer to sue people for me.”

“Shut up you dolt.”

“God. I thought I was disgusting when I flirt.” Yang stuck out her tongue in faux disgust. 

“It's just in our genes sis.” Ruby snickered, enjoying Weiss's blush and embarrassment. Yang was about to say something else to tease the two when Ruby's stomach growled violently. Classic Ruby.

“Have you eaten anything?” Yang sighed, furrowing her brow.

“Uh. Maybe.” Ruby shifted from foot to foot.

“No, she hasn't.” Weiss sighed as well, looking somewhat cross. “I don't think she's left this room since last night when we got here.”

“I just wanted to be here when you woke up.” Ruby explained, fingers fidgeting.

Yang just smiled and let out a breath. “Ruby, go get something to eat. And not hospital food okay? People make fun of it for a reason.”

“You're just as bad as dad.” Ruby rolled her eyes.

“Hey, you can take Weiss too, go to that restaurant you'd recommended, it'll be a date-”

“I get it! We're leaving!” Ruby grabbed Weiss's hand with a flush and started to head out of the room.

“R-Ruby, not so tight!”

“We need to leave before the teasing continues! This is operation escape big sis's wrath!”

Yang laughed as she heard Weiss and Ruby run down the hall, giggling and laughing, joking with each other in an easy way. She sighed and stared over at a clock mounted to the wall. It was just about dinner time; maybe a nurse would bring her some barely palatable food. It made her think of Blake's terrible potatoes, the night they had shared, how full of laughter and joy it had been, how Blake had gotten so much better at cooking, how much Yang wished she was here right now-

Her head dropped into her pillow with a thump. Maybe she'd try to sleep while everyone was gone; she was more than exhausted after all. Hopefully she wouldn't dream about Blake. 

\-----

The rest of the evening was uneventful to a fault, involving an awkward mixture of her uncle, father, her sister, and her significant other. It was almost midnight when they finally came in to tell Yang about her scheduled operation; it was coming, sooner rather than later. She was nervous about it of course. The look of fear on her family's face didn't help with that. Respectfully, the nurse and doctor told the family they needed to leave, but that they'd be able to visit Yang shortly after her operation. 

Ruby had her hand in a death grip and practically had to be dragged out of the room. "W-wait, I almost forgot!" She stammered, a gruff hand from Qrow on her shoulder. She ran back over to Yang's bed and grabbed something out of her back pocket; Yang's phone, thoroughly cracked, yet still somehow functioning. 

"I uh, charged it up for you. Something for you to do so that you don't get too bored." 

Yang was pretty sure she must have been a saint or something in a past life to deserve a sister as thoughtful as Ruby. After one more extended and awkward one armed hug, Qrow and Weiss finally managed to pull Ruby out of the room, leaving Yang alone with her thoughts. 

Well, at least she had a phone now. 

She was mindlessly working on a puzzle app when she received a text. The buzzing didn’t startle her near as much as the sender’s name did; it was from Ilia.

_‘Yang, please respond.’_ That was all it said. Yang’s blood burnt under her skin and she replied as quickly as she could with one arm.

_‘Where the fuck is Blake’_

Her eyes were immovable as mountains as she watched the phone, watched as Ilia sent her another text. The message bleeped up with a cheerful beep discordant to the mood.

_‘I don’t know. But I want to help. Things have gone too far.’_

Yang rolled her eyes as she hammered out a response. This was fucking rich.

_‘Oh,_ this _is too far?’_

She didn’t even want to look at the response, but her own curiosity was killing her. She had to see what she wrote.

_‘This is my fault. I’m sorry. I just want to meet, I’ll tell you everything I know about Adam.’_

The offer was tantalizing enough. Yang would do anything to hear any sort of information about Blake right now. Maybe even collude with a former friend turned enemy. She thought back to that night and saw Ilia with a gun digging into Blake's chin, and any semblance she had of working together fizzled up instantly.

_'Well I'm stuck in the hospital thanks to your boss, but I swear when I get my hands on you’_

“Ms. Xiao Long?” A nurse rapped on the door frame. Yang quickly silenced her phone and tossed onto the bed. “Are you ready? The anesthesiologist is here.”

The nurse walked in with the doctor next to him, who sat down next to Yang's bed to explain what the process would be like, but Yang wasn't listening much. She cut her off halfway through her explanation and told her to just do it. Her thoughts were still on Ilia's messages as they knocked her out and wheeled her into the operating room.

\-----

Blake had always been pretty sneaky, and that stealth was finally coming in handy again. She remembered where an old meeting spot for Adam's faction was; a long abandoned grain processing plant on the outskirts of Vale. She remembered going there, meeting in the crowd with other masked faunus, listening to Adam preach about equality and rising up; she didn't know at the time that he was just spouting lies. Now more than ever it was obvious how selfish his intentions had always been.

She used an old access ladder to get on top of the building and did her best not to look down. The pistol was tucked into her jeans, fully loaded, safety still on. A full hour passed before she finally spotted two goons walking into the building in the moonlight; one of them had a jacket with the Fang's logo on it, but twisted, with barred fangs and claw marks across the front. Blake swallowed.

She looked across the roof, spotted a loose metal sheet and pulled it off carefully, mindful of the sharp corners and rusted screws sticking out of it. Blake entered the building, landing as quietly as possible on the old catwalk near the roof. Luckily there were no guards posted nearby. She snuck down the walkway and took cover behind some long abandoned machinery where she could still keep an eye on the goons inside. There were five altogether; the two that had just entered, and three faunus that had been waiting inside. More than ever she was thankful that she had better hearing than most.

“We're moving Saturday still?” One of the men inside asked, unpacking some cardboard boxes. Blake kept a careful eye on him.

“That's what Adam says. I still think it's too soon.” Another added, crossing their arms with a huff. Blake tried to lean forward, to get a better look at they were unpacking, when she accidentally knocked a bent old nail off the catwalk, heart stopping in her chest as she watched the old piece of metal fall down to the floor. Her back was glued to the old machinery as a metallic clack rang out through the abandoned building.

“What the hell was that?” One of the goons demanded. She could hear a gun click. “Did you idiots do a sweep of the building or not?”

“Look around dumb ass; the whole building's falling apart. There's no one here.”

A few tense minutes passed by. To Blake, it felt like an eternity.

“I guess it was nothing.” One of them finally sighs. “Finish unloading those boxes.”

“It'd go faster if you helped me.”

“Oh shut up.”

Blake waited till her heart slowed down to take a peak again, careful this time to make sure she didn't send any scrap metal flying.

“Everything accounted for?”

“Looks like it.”

She looked down at the group, eyes widening sharply when she realized what they were unpacking; explosives. She was confident about that.

_What the hell are they doing?!_ She did her best to slow her breathing.

“Alright. Tell Adam the good news.” A goon laughed wickedly. Sienna's little rally is going to go very smoothly.”

Sienna was next. That much was obvious. She sincerely hoped that wherever her parents where that they were safe, because Adam clearly no longer had even the suggestion of a moral compass anymore. Blake waited till the goons eventually left, hopping into two re-purposed and likely stolen delivery trucks; they wouldn't arouse much suspicion hidden in those.

Tears came naturally after that. She couldn't help it, sitting there, thinking about every like Adam had told, the evil that had been hiding in his heart all along, just waiting for the right trigger, the right moment. She sobbed thinking about how she had ever loved him, how she'd allowed herself to be tricked and used. Abused.

“I'll kill him.” She said to herself, choking on her words. “I'll gonna kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEAR GOD IM REALLY SORRY FOR THE DELAY life has just been absolutely insane ;-;  
> not too much else to say other than that we are nearing the end! the next chapters already mostly written too so the next update should be pretty soon!
> 
> apologies for any typos by the way! i haven't had a lot of time to proof read lol


	12. UPDATE

Hey guys, this isn't actually a chapter update but I wanted to explain why it's been so long since one and why it's going to take a while for another one. I just got out of Detox/Rehab on Monday. I'm currently working towards sobriety after essentially... hitting rock bottom. I do intend to finish this fic at some point but I can't really give an exact date when. If you or a loved one are facing any similar issues as I am, please know that there are resources available to you, and that you are seriously, seriously, not alone. 

-Pokeh


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IS THIS THE REAL LIFE hi!
> 
>  
> 
> In all seriousness, I want to thank every single one of you who left kind comments; I didn't respond at the time since I was really overwhelmed with everything but your kindness really did mean the world to me and still does. I'm in recovery still and getting better (and becoming a better person in the process thank fucking god). This isn't the longest chapter in the world but I hope you all still enjoy it! 
> 
> And again, seriously, thank you for supporting me. It sucks that I really can't express how much it means to me. Here's to volume 7!

“Well, thankfully, the surgery was successful. You really pulled through Ms. Xiao Long.” The surgeon said, taking a look at Yang’s arm. It was still trapped in a hefty brace, but evidently Yang had gotten lucky. Her arm _would_ be ok, given enough rest and time to heal. 

“Thanks doc.” She mustered up as much joy as she could, given the dark circumstances still surrounding the situation, like a heavy fog cast on just her. The surgeon gave her a laboured smile. It didn't help but she appreciated the effort at least. 

“The nurse will let your family know that you can be visited again. We've already hooked up painkillers to your IV as well. I’ll let you rest, but don’t be afraid to hit that button if anything comes up or if something doesn’t feel right.” The doctor placed the call button next to Yang’s left side before leaving, sliding the door shut behind her. Yang let out a sigh and aimlessly checked her phone, lying on the counter next to her; Ilia hadn’t texted her back. Of course she hadn't. It was probably all just some sick joke; kicking her while she was down, rubbing salt in the wound.

Alone, in her sterile room, Yang finally started to cry. She never cried much, really; having to grow up so fast as a child would do that to you, but there was nothing she could do to dam up her tears this time. She wished more than anything that Blake was there, sitting by her bedside, stroking her hand. Her body was bruised and broken, but nothing compared to the agony of not knowing where the faunus was. 

Twenty minutes passed like that, alone. Eventually her eyes had no more tears to give, and she fell back into her pillow, into the curve of the bed, trying to catch her breath. Her pulse on the monitor gradually steadied to a calm, consistent beat. 

A knock rapped out on the door to her room. 

“Ruby, is that you?” Yang asked with a smile on her face. Seeing her sister right now seemed like the only panacea worth getting excited about. 

The door slid opened and Ilia strode in, eyes darting about, nervous. Not her beloved sister. Yang felt her skin go cold, _knew_ that her pulse would be spiking yet again. Her eyes bled red and she ground her teeth together, threatening to turn them to dust. 

“What the _hell_ , are you doing here.” Each word was laced with the threat of murder. It wasn't a question; it was a threat, and Ilia shrunk under Yang's words despite the fact that the blond was bedridden. 

“I-” Ilia began, like she'd rehearsed what she'd wanted to say, only to actually find she couldn't be composed in front of the person she'd helped to almost get killed. “I'm sorry, but I had to see you-”

“You're _sorry_?” Yang repeated venomously. “Great! Everything's forgiven! Glad we could have this talk. Now get the hell out of my room before I get out of this bed and wrap my fingers around your goddamn neck.”

She pointed at the exit aggressively, demanding. Ilia shivered, her shaking form obvious against the stark white of the room. 

“Look, you don't have to forgive me,” Ilia began, taking a slow, tentative step towards Yang's bed, “but you have to hear me out, I just want to help Bla-”

“Get out!” Yang hissed, keeping her voice as quiet as she could (which wasn't _very_ , given the circumstances). She didn't even want to _hear_ Ilia say her name. She had no right to. 

“Please, Yang, I just want to talk-” Desperation colored Ilia's voice, but she didn’t have any time to bring up an excuse before they were interrupted. 

“Get away from my sister!”

The two girls trained their eyes on the entrance, startles. It was Ruby, rounding through the doorway. She knew right away that Yang was in distress, and the cause was the mystery woman standing before her. Sisterly instincts and such. Ruby sprung into action quickly and cornered Ilia, who backed slowly into a corner, intimidated by Ruby's sudden appearance and aggression. Weiss wasn't far behind, looking rightfully confused, awkwardly holding a bag of cookies that almost certainly belonged to Ruby. 

“I-I'm not here to fight!” Ilia stammered, holding her hands up in surrender. She shot Yang a pleading glance. “Yang, _please_ -”

All eyes were on her in the silence. She could her Ruby and Weiss's breathing, the rattling of Ilia's keys as she shook, the stupid ticking of the clock on the wall. She trained her eyes on Ilia and tried to breathe steadily, remember all her training and practice. 

“It's all right, Ruby.” Yang breathed carefully after eyeing Ilia up and down, confident that the girl wasn't armed, less confident that she was being genuine. 

“Who is this? What's going on?” Weiss demanded, looking to Ruby for answers and finding none.

“One of the people responsible for my arm.” Yang spoke casually, keeping her anger in check as she stared Ilia down. The faunus turned her head down, unable to look Yang in the eye, not that she could blame her. How _did_ you look someone in the eye after such a betrayal?

“What?! I'll go get Qrow-” Ruby turned to leave, incensed and desperate to protect her sister. 

“Ruby wait!” Yang leaned forward in her bed, wincing at the pressure it put on her side and arm. Her sister looked at her, sadness coloring her eyes. Ilia stood there silently, chewing her lower lip into oblivion. 

“You have five minutes.” Yang said carefully, working through the pain and anger. “Why are you here?”

Ilia glanced from Yang to Ruby, to Weiss, and then back again. She carefully lowered her hands and approached Yang slowly, cautiously. 

“I-it's him.” She began with a shaky breath. It was clear who she was talking about. 

“Adam.” Yang said the name as a curse. Ilia simply nodded. 

“He's planning something horrible, and I think Blake might-”

Yang shivered aggressively at the name. Ilia looked like she was ashamed she'd even said it. 

“I think she might try to _do_ something.”

“How would she even know about it?” A reasonable question, Yang thought. 

“That night, when she ran she-” Ilia choked, “she looked at him like she wanted to kill him, and Blake…”

“She's not one to back down from a challenge.” Yang finished the thought with a melancholy smile. 

Ilia paused before nodding, distant for a moment. “Yeah. And she knows things others don't, knows his old ratholes, how he thinks. I'm- I'm worried about her. If she tries something and she fails Adam will-” 

“Don't even say it.” Yang cut her off in a quiet, pointed voice. Ruby and Weiss glanced at each other, both at a loss of what to do, what to say, _if_ they should say anything at all. This wasn’t their battle. 

“Look, I'm worried too.” Yang grit her teeth. “But that doesn't get us anywhere, we don't know where she is.”

Ilia nodded again. “Blake's… always been good at not being found. But I know where Adam will be next week.”

Yang's eyes closed at just the thought. Her body shook out of cold fear. 

Ilia watched, took it in, but continued. “Sienna Kahn is having a big rally next week; I mean _big_. She's splitting off from the rest of the White Fang, and she thinks Adam will be her second…”

“But he's planning on killing her, isn't he? That seems to scan.” Yang clenched her left fist so tightly it nearly drew blood. “That _bastard_. Did he try to kill her parents too?”

A breathless moment passed and Ilia nodded solemnly. It was the only response Yang needed. 

“Well then we need to go-” Yang forgot herself for a moment and tried to get out of bed, only to have her right arm painfully jerk against its restraint. She grit her teeth and groaned violently in frustration. 

“You're not going anywhere.” Weiss cut in. She had no idea what was going on, but Yang's poor condition was obvious. “Yang, you just had some _serious_ surgery. You'll be lucky if they let you out in a week!”

“I know!” Yang cried out. “But if Blake's in trouble I'm not going to just sit here and-” 

“Yang,” Surprisingly, it was Ruby's calm voice that silenced her, “it's ok. We won't do nothing.”

Yang shivered, all full of fear and anxiety. Not knowing exactly where Blake was was going to give her a heart attack; at least she was in a hospital. 

“Is this all true?” Ruby asked Ilia sternly. “There's gonna be… an attack? Like a terrorist attack?”

Ilia paused for a moment, perhaps unsure if she should involve Ruby in the discussion; not that there was any choice in the matter. 

“I'm sure of it. I don't know the exact details, but knowing Adam, it's not anything good.”

Yang squirmed in her bed. The more they talked about it, the more she just wanted to rip her IV out and get her damn guns. 

“Weiss, can you go get my uncle? I'll stay here.” Ruby's request came with a maturity and control Yang wasn't familiar with. Her sister had really grown in their time apart. Weiss nodded and quickly left the room without further question. 

“W-wait-” Ilia began, clearly worried, “you can't get the police, they'll arrest me. I can’t-”

“So?” Yang scoffed, glowering at Ilia. “You'll be safer with them than you will be when I get out of this bed.”

“Yang.” Ruby placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, though she kept her gaze on Ilia. “I… don't really know what's going on, but it seems like you need her help. Maybe they can make some sort of deal?”

Ruby directed the next part at Ilia. “You help us in exchange for some plea bargain or something? If this is as serious as you say then uh…” 

Ilia weighed the options in her head, eyes darting around the room, looking for escape routes and options. She didn't move to flee though; Yang figured it was because she was under unbearable guilt. After all, she was feeling the same weight herself. 

“Ok.” Ilia finally spoke. Yang and Ruby's muscles visibly loosened. “I owe Blake that much.”

“Yeah. You do.” Yang swore under her breath. 

\----- 

Blake had enough money to motel surf for the week; or she thought so at least. Her savings would be depleted, but she needed the anonymity granted by motel staff who knew not to ask too many questions. 

She wound up at the library, with a hoodie pulled tight over her ears and face, browsing faunus rights forums in a private browser. No one bothered her, thankfully, all too enamored in their own work or the books that they were reading. The only sound was the occasional flip of a page and the quiet clacking of keys. 

She knew enough to know where to look for news on Sienna. This couldn't have been an 'official’ White Fang rally. This had to be off the books, like Adam's extremist gatherings after he'd been kicked out of the organization. There were forums off the beaten path, digital havens of anonymity where people proclaimed their vicious views and found places of acceptance, places to gather and organized. Blake found herself on one such site, disgusted by some of the messages she was seeing. She tried to ignore it, push it out of the way. Right now she needed info, times, dates. 

_f only those stupid goons had been more specific._ Blake bemoaned mentally. There had to be something, some secret she was overlooking, some obvious code somewhere-

“Oh.” Blake found exactly what she was looking for. It was a not so subtle call to arms against the 'current white fang leadership’, aka, her parents, half actual complaints, half rambling manifesto. She grabbed a loose piece of paper and scribbled down the info, the date and time of this so called new revolution, and shoved it roughly into her pocket. 

Her throat was dry as she left the library in hushed steps, and she felt her sweat pouring down her forehead; enough to make a new ocean, probably. There was still time to turn back; she could easily just leave it be, save her own skin. She could try to get into contact with the police, though they tended to be useless when it came to faunus affairs; they probably wouldn’t even believe her. She had no evidence of any _actual_ wrongdoing. But there was Yang’s uncle-

_Yang_. The name had nested permanently inside her brain; it wasn't just a name anymore, it was a part of her very DNA. But she couldn’t bear to face Yang, not after what had happened. Not after Adam had attacked her in his twisted act of vengeance. She didn’t even know if she was still alive. 

_This isn’t right. I should try to find her, I should go back and-_ no, that was foolish. That’s probably what Adam was waiting for. As long as he was alive, Yang wasn’t safe. Neither of them were. That was a fact. She had to steel her resolve; there was no room for error here, no room for second thoughts. Maybe, once this was finally over, she could seek out Yang. Tell her how sorry she was that she left, beg for understanding and forgiveness from her love. 

Her gun felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and the metal felt cold every time it brushed up against her skin.


End file.
